Makafushigi Adventure
by RisanF
Summary: After many years. Goku and Bulma take another trip to find the Dragon Balls, along with Oolong, Yamcha, and Puar. But this time, feelings long submerged reveal themselves, bringing an end to their old lives, and offering a new beginning.
1. Prologue

  
Disclaimer: Dragon Ball and all characters within are the property of Akira Toriyama, TOEI ANIMATION, and various other companies. I am using them without permission, and I am making no money off of them.   
  
Prologue: The Twilight of Our Dreams   
  
*****   
  
The late evening sun spread it's silent light on the Eastern prairie, accenting it's many features. It's beams refracted through the dewdrops, bending the rays into an intricate pattern of color across the landscape, which in turn arched skywards on a course back to the heavens. A monument to All Creation.   
  
The untamed countryside was offset by the dome shaped structure alongside the stream, looking for the entire world like some sort of comical igloo. It's whitish hull bore the company name Capsule Corp imprinted above the door, which was swinging open to reveal it's young heiress: a girl of 16 with odd turquoise hair twirled in a high braid. Who, at the moment, was in a bit of a fix.   
  
"Where is it?" Her hair swished around as she turned her head in a half-panic. "WhereisitwhereisitwhereisitWHERE IS IT!?! Oh man, I can't find it anywhere!"   
  
The girl scrambled around the premise, checking every part of the odd little dwelling in a desperate attempt to find the missing article. With no luck, as she was soon back where she started, sweating even heavier than before.   
  
"Maybe I left it back in the cabin? Yeah, that's right, I left it back in the cabin!" With a half crazed giggle, she proceeded to head back inside...   
  
"Hey Bulma!" ...and a shrill voice screeched out behind her, breaking her out of her contemplation. She snapped back to view her assailant: a young boy half her height, sporting a blue Kung-fu outfit, an innocent grin, and a seriously waked out "haircut."   
  
But this was the wrong time to interrupt her. "DON'T SNEAK UP ON ME LIKE THAT, GOKU! CAN'T YOU SEE THAT I'M IN THE MIDDLE OF A CRISIS?!" she hollered out at him, letting loose her frustration at her half-pint companion.   
  
Goku remained unfazed for the most part, albeit a bit offended. "Gee Bulma, y'don't have to yell!" he protested meekly, adopting a pensive expression. "I was just sayin' hello!"   
  
"Yeah well, this is a bad time," Bulma responded, trying to regain her composure, which was lost again by glancing at the object chucked over the boy's shoulder: some sort of hideous mutant squid that dwarfed Goku. "ACK!" she jumped. "What the hell is that?"   
  
"Dinner." he said nonchalantly, as if this was an everyday thing. Which unfortunately it was, of course.   
  
"Ick, Goku why do have drag in every dead animal to the door?" Bulma sighed exasperatedly. He shrugged, and she decided to drop it. It'd take more than complaints to stop 14 years of bad habits, that much she knew. Sometimes it was hard to believe that he was only two years younger than she was.   
  
"Well, you cook that outside. I don't want the cabin stinking up." She prepared to head back inside, when Goku piped up again.   
  
"Wait Bulma, I wanna show you somethin'!" he told her. "It's really cool, come see!"   
  
"Forget it," she said crossly. "I'm busy."   
  
"Aww, c'mon!" he half-whined up at her. "It'll be fun!"   
  
Bulma folded her arms, turning back around. "N-O, NO!" she growled. "Look, I just lost my favorite hairbrush, and I'm turning the house upside down and inside out trying to find it. I don't have the time!" She rolled her eyes in exasperation. "Honestly, do I look like I want to see anything right now?"   
  
But she was surprised to see a mischievous smile on his lips, replacing his oh-so-innocent expression. "You wouldn't be so stubborn if you knew about the present I have for you." he smirked cheekily.   
  
"Present?" Bulma raised an eyebrow, suspiciously eyeing the boy. "Alright Goku, what are you hiding? Come on, cough it up!" Somehow, she knew she wasn't going to like this.   
  
Goku turned around, revealing a monkey-like tail extending from his rear. And curled up in that tail was a small pink hairbrush.   
  
The sky tinted just a bit, casting a shadow on the two teenagers. Bulma's expression was shadowed a bit, her eyes cloaked underneath the darkness. But you could tell, by her clenched fists and rigid posture, that someone was going to die...   
  
*****   
  
"You little JERK!!!" Bulma raged across the field, chasing the boy in a mad frenzy. "You peewee, you shrimp, you dork, you LOSER!!!" Her arms pumped furiously as she struggled to catch the elusive thief, so she could kill him, and torture him, and kick him, and torture him. Oh yeah, and KILL HIM!   
  
Goku remained ahead of her, so she resorted to throwing. "Come back here!" she screamed, throwing anything she could find. A rock, stick, table, piano, and a Dr. Slump comic book were all utilized as weapons, among other assorted objects: a bowling ball, a paperweight, an aquarium, an oversized spatula etc..   
  
But Goku just laughed, and dodged the impromptu projectiles with ease, staying one step ahead of her all the time. Then, he had the audacity to stop all together. "Nnnaaa naa, can't catch me!" He stuck his tongue out at her briefly, than took off again, insuing Bulma's ire once more.   
  
"ARRGH!!!" She charged forward again, readying herself with a new arsenal of knickknacks. However, Bulma was starting to notice her surroundings. In her anger, she had failed to notice that Goku had led her away from the field and into a small forest.   
  
Leading her...   
  
He was leading her somewhere.   
  
Her curiosity piqued, she forgot about her resolution for the moment, instead glancing about her. The trees obscured her view, making it difficult to get a feel for her environment. The leaves blocked out all but a few beams of sunlight, giving the forest a surreal look. She did, however, hear the sound of rushing water from the east. Brushing the branches out of her way, she proceeded in the general direction off the sounds.   
  
It was getting louder now, so Bulma redoubled her efforts, proceeding forward at a faster rate. It was then she noticed the light coming from the edge of the forest. Finally, she cleared the last branch and stepped forward. But she was not prepared for the sight that awaited her.   
  
"Oh Kami..."   
  
A small river flowed through the scenery, trickling lightly over pebbles and small rocks. Dandelion's stood to either side of it, it's tuffs wafting in the breeze. At the end, the river cascaded off a cliff to create a small waterfall, catching the sunrays at just the right angle to create a miniature rainbow. And all the while, a beautiful sunset framed the locale, setting the scene as perfectly as a storybook picture.   
  
"I found it while fishing," Goku had emerged from his hiding place behind the tree, the hairbrush in his grasp. "I had to get your attention quickly, or you'd miss it." He walked over to Bulma's side. "Do...you like it?"   
  
"It's beautiful," She didn't glance at him, too caught up in the view to pay full attention. Glancing at the sky, she beheld the low nimbus clouds that cloaked the sun's illumination. A streak of violet shot through them, testimony to the light they hid within their dark expanses.   
  
Bulma vaguely noticed that Goku was scooting closer to her. She turned upon feeling some light pressure on her palm, and was surprised to find that Goku had taken her hand in his. He looked at her with a nervous expression, awaiting the berating he was sure to get for his boldness.   
  
But instead of shouting at him, she smiled softly at him, and gently squeezed back. His mouth turned upwards into his characteristic smile of his once again, his eyes lighting up with boyish glee, and both of them turned to the waterfall once more.   
  
The sun had dipped slightly since they had arrived, peeking just above the horizon. The arc of the rainbow was a bit smaller than usual, but no less beautiful to either of them. The rocks, now shining brilliantly with the light, reflected the early twilight that came.   
  
And the hairbrush lay forgotten by the tree, abandoned for the wondrous view that stood before her and the warm hand of the boy that stood beside her...   
  
  
  
Dragon Ball: Makafushigi Adventure   
  
By Reid M. Haynes   
  
  
  
Authors Notes: Well, I've finally gotten around to writing that Dragon Ball fic that I've been wanting to do. And, as you may have guessed, the flavor of this story is probably going to be vastly different from the majority of DB and DBZ fics out there. I hope this story will make an impression, and give fanfic readers a very different type of experience.   
  
C&C are encouraged, even if it's something like: "Bulma and Goku? You sick bastard!" or "All the characters are way OOC!" (Although in all honesty, I'd rather hear praise and adoration!)   
  
Additional Disclaimer: Dr. Slump is the property of Akira Toriyama. The giant spatula is from Ranma ½. So is the "throwing stuff out of thin air" gag. ^_^   
  
Until next time, Ja ne! ^_^   



	2. Chapter 1

  
Dragon Ball: Makafushigi Adventure   
  
By Reid M. Haynes   
  
Disclaimer: Dragon Ball and all characters within are the property of Akira Toriyama, TOEI ANIMATION, and various other companies. I am using them without permission, and I am making no money off of them.   
  
Legend:   
( ) Denotes thoughts.   
  
Tale 1: Home Sweet Home   
  
*****   
  
"Hey, Chichi I'm home!" The Super Saiyan known as Goku called for his wife as he strode casually into the house he built years ago. His instincts lead him over to the kitchen area, where he was sure she would be cooking something. Indeed, the smell of boiling noodles was already reaching his nose. This pleased him greatly. Nothing better than a hot meal after a good fight, he always said.   
  
Entering the kitchen, he saw Chichi bent over the stove, stirring some simple ramen in the pot. An apron was wrapped around her waist, and she seemed really intent on her cooking, as she hadn't responded to Goku's greeting.   
  
"Yo, is dinner ready yet?" he asked her. "Hey, Chichi!" But she gave him no verbal response, continuing to stir the pot diligently. He tapped her once on the shoulder, but she ignored this.   
  
"C'mon, listen to me!" Goku tried again, starting to become irritated with the whole thing. After a couple more taps and nudges, she finally turned to face him.   
  
But it was a scowl that she greeted her husband with. "Well you've finally shown up, have you?" she said coldly. "What's your excuse this time?"   
  
"Huh?" Goku was confused. "What's up with you?"   
  
"Don't play dumb with me, Son Goku!" Chichi placed the spoon on the counter rather harshly. "You were suppose to be here over two hours ago! Now, where were you?" She stomped up to him, looking at him straight in the eye. Her glare was vicious, despite her shorter height.   
  
"Ah, do we really hafta go through with this now?" Goku groaned halfheartedly, his nose still sniffing the noodles. "I'm hungry!"   
  
But this only set her off further "Gohan and I have already eaten," she pointed out angrily. "You'd have missed your dinner if I hadn't PLANNED on you being late, which of course you are!"   
  
"Ah, don't overreact!" he waved off her anger with his usual tact. "Look, I was just trainin' with Piccolo, that's all."   
  
Chichi took her first good look at Goku, and was appalled by the sight. His orange gi was tattered and shredded, revealing fresh scars on his chest. His hands were red with the blows exchanged, especially at the knuckles. Dirt and grime coated his boyish face, and his raven black locks was turned brown by the dust clinging to it.   
  
And there was nothing that irritated her more than a sloppy appearance.   
  
"Goku, you march up there and get cleaned up right now!" She directed, pointing her finger to the lavatory.   
  
"Chichi…"   
  
"MARCH!" And Goku was sent to clean up.   
  
*****   
  
He was seated at the table now, a plate of Ramen noodles before him. Chichi perched over him like a hawk, ready to clean up after her husband's. And young Gohan, who decided to join his father for the meal, stared between the two of them.   
  
As usual, Goku made no precedence for politeness, gorging on the noodles as a starving man gorges on a carrot. His chopsticks morphed into a blur as they scooped up noodles faster than the human eye could see. In no time at all, the plate was completely clean.   
  
"More please!" Goku held out his plate expectantly.   
  
"Goku, chew before you swallow!" she chided, putting her hands on her hips. "You'll give Gohan bad manners!"   
  
"Mmpgh…?" Raman noodles hung out of his mouth, a light drool coating his lips. With a sickening slurp, he sucked the food into his bottomless orifice known as his stomach. "What'd ya say, Chichi?" he asked.   
  
"Never mind…" Chichi sighed, reading another batch of Raman. She scooped it on the plate, and Goku immediately started shoveling it down again.   
  
Chichi turned her head to look at Gohan, who was eating MUCH slower than his father. "So, Gohan honey how's school?" she addressed her son, somewhat overly casually, trying to ignore the slurping and smacking sounds from behind her.   
  
"It's going fine, mom!" Gohan said cheerfully. "Everyone's really cool there, and I've already got some new friends," He took another small bite of raman, chewing thoroughly before swallowing.   
  
"You're keeping up with your schoolwork?" Chichi continued with her interogation.   
  
Gohan wiped his mouth gingerly. "Um, yeah," he said, once finish. "It's kinda easy, actually. I mean, I've only been there for two weeks, and the professor already thinks I'm the best in the class."   
  
"That's my Gohan!" Chichi was all smiles now, patting him on the shoulder. "That's my little scholar! Still…" she put her hand to her chin, stroking it thoughtfully "I wonder if they're challenging you enough? Maybe I should put you into the Hyper Accelerated Gifted class…"   
  
"So Gohan," Goku started, having finished his second plate. "You meet any girls yet?"   
  
Gohan stared at his plate. "Well, there is this one girl…you see, her name's Videl," he smiled bashfully, fidgeting with his chopsticks.   
  
"Ah hah!" Goku nudged him with his elbow, a grin. "Cute?"   
  
"Well…"   
  
"Now that's quite enough of that!" Chichi stepped between them. "I don't want anything distracting Gohan from his studies!" Sometimes, Goku could act so childish.   
  
"Ah, there ain't nuthin' wrong with looking at girls," Goku folded his arms behind his head. "At least that's what Master Roshi always said."   
  
"That's what I was afraid of," Chichi rolled her eyes at the mention of the old pervert.   
  
The chime of the doorbell cut off all further conversation. "Goku, answer the door," Chichi said absently while sweeping the crumbs off the floor. "I've got to clean up."   
  
"No prob'" Goku hopped out of his seat, heading to the door. He swung it open to meet his visitor.   
  
"Hey…Yamcha!"   
  
*****   
  
Chichi was in the process of brushing the crumbs off the table when Goku walked back in.   
  
"Who was it's Goku…huh?" Chichi cut off when a second person entered the kitchen.   
  
Right behind him followed a man roughly Goku's age. He stood a few inches shorter than him, and had long black hair that fell to his waist. An orange gi similar to Goku's adorned his muscled body, and almost made him indistinguishable from the other. But the faded scars on his face gave him away.   
  
"Oh, welcome Yamcha," she greeted politely. "Nice of you to stop by,"   
  
"Yo, Chichi!" Giving her a somewhat obnoxious grin, the young man leaned against the counter top, folding his arms in a cocky gesture. "How've you been?"   
  
"As well as can be expected," she answered honestly. Yamcha regarded this with a nod, taking an apple from a basket. "And how have you been?"   
  
"I'm still kickin'" Yamcha shined the apple on his shirt before taking a bite. "It's been kinda dull lately, but things are about to heat up!"   
  
He suddenly slapped himself on the forehead. "Oh yeah, I almost forgot!" Yamcha's grin brightened three notches. "Why don't you tell 'er, Goku?"   
  
"Oh, right!" Goku suddenly looked up from the Raman noodles he was eyeing. He cleared his throat before starting. "Well, you know things've been pretty quiet lately," he explained. "And since there hasn't been anything to fight, I have lot's of free time."   
  
(That's for sure.) Chichi thought sourly, noting her husband's unemployment status. She restrained herself from comment, not wishing to embarrass herself in the presence of company. Instead she nodded her head, prompting him to continue.   
  
"Anyway, 'turns out that everyone else has been taking it kinda slow lately." Goku went on. "You know, Bulma, Oolong and even Puar. No one has much to do these days, "   
  
"Continue," she said.   
  
"Well, as you know, the Dragon Balls have revived by now."   
  
"Yes, I noticed that Sushinchu has regained its shine," Chichi noted. "But what does that have to do with anything?"   
  
"Well…" Goku stalled for a moment.  
  
"We've decided to hold another Dragon Ball hunt!" Yamcha blurted out, unable to restrain himself any longer.   
  
"Dragon Ball hunt?" Chichi was taken aback by this news.   
  
"Yeah! We're inviting the whole gang! It's gonna be a blast!" Yamcha was rambling now, getting real excited. "And, of course, you're invited too," he amended carefully.   
  
"Wow!" Gohan jumped up from his seat. "Hey, Yamcha! Can I go too?" he asked eagerly.   
  
"Sure, kid!" Yamcha smiled. "We've got room!"   
  
"Oh no, you're not!" Chichi stepped in. "You staying right here!"   
  
"But, Mooooomm!" he complained, pleading with his mother.   
  
"Your father and his friends may have free time, but you have school this Monday. I'm not going to have you getting behind." Chichi finished by crossing her arms, finishing the 'discussion.'   
  
"Okay…" Gohan slowly crawled back into his seat, plunging into as deep sulk.   
  
"Hey Chichi, you gonna come along?" Goku looked back at her over his shoulder. "I bet we could squeeze you in Yamcha's cruiser."   
  
"Yeah, it's no biggie," Yamcha agreed, coming up beside Goku. "Come on. It'll be cool!"   
  
She waved them off with one hand. "No, I think I'll stay here," she respond, taking a reasonable air. "Gohan might need some help on his homework. Besides, I've got a million things here to keep me busy,"   
  
"Whatever," Goku shrugged nonchalantly. Turning his back once again, he headed to the back room of the house. "I'm picking up a few things, then I'm off. Yamcha, can you stay for a second?"   
  
"Sure," Turning his back, Yamcha strolled to the door. "I've left the engine running in front. Be ready to get going soon. Gas don't come cheap! See ya Chichi!" With two fingers, he gave a salute of departure to her, then walked out.   
  
Chichi was dumbfounded by this. She hadn't counted on them leaving so soon. She hadn't counted on him leaving so soon.   
  
Despite her attitude toward her husband, she had been looking forward to Goku staying for more than a few minutes at the house. She had missed her husband when he went on another one of his numerous training exercises.   
  
And now he was leaving her again.   
  
Chichi barely noticed when Goku had returned. "Hey, I'm off!" he said cheerfully. She turned to look at him. Crossing his chest was a rope that bound the length-changing staff Nyoibo to his back. With it, he looked just like the little boy she had fallen in love with all those years ago.   
  
"When will you be back?" she asked him quietly.   
  
"Prob'ly in a couple of weeks," He raised his eyebrows. As dense as Goku could be, even he could tell when Chichi was bothered. He placed a hand on her shoulder. "You alright? What's wrong?"   
  
Chichi shivered at the feel of his callused palm. "It's just…" one look into his eyes cut off her speech. She stared and stared, searching his eyes for any sign of understanding. She found none.   
  
"No, never mind," she shook off his hand, averted her gaze. "You…should probably get going. Don't keep Yamcha waiting."   
  
Goku stared a minute more at her, then went to the door. A little while later, the sound of fading laugher and roaring engines emitted from outside as the cruiser shot into the sky.   
  
And he was gone   
  
*****   
  
The house was quiet once more since he left, and Chichi sat on the counter-top, alone with her thoughts. An empty bowl lay on the tabletop, testimony to the hungry man who had been there previously. Her broom lay abandoned next to the crumbs on the floor, which she had neglected to sweep up. Gohan was in his room working on his assignments; he hadn't called for her, so he must be doing fine. Which left her with her ponderings of life, love, and the Saiyan known as Goku.   
  
He was so innocent, she recalled. Swooping in on the flying cloud Kintu'on, his magic staff slung over his shoulder, he was the legendary fairytale hero coming to save her from the darkest of evils. The dream of every young girl searching for her prince.   
  
But that had faded into the past, when she did finally managed to wed him. He never spent much time at home, or with her. Rather, he spent his time in an endless war, fighting the hoards of Saiyans and Aliens and Changelings that never seemed to run out. Often times, he would drag Gohan into the battle as well. This she had no control over either, after all, what would she be to stop her son's desire to save the world.   
  
The few times he was at home, a wall of misunderstanding stood between them. He seemed to have no idea the extent of her feelings about him. Likewise, she guessed she knew little about what went through that head of his. It was obvious that they were almost perfect strangers living the same house.   
  
Walking to a small desk, Chichi flipped though some papers, and found she was already looking at the calendar. When would he be back? Two weeks…that would mean right around the 30th. Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, he'd be back on one of those days. If he wasn't, he'd be just a couple of days later.   
  
(Goku always keeps his promises...)   
  
Chichi marked off the dates with a felt pin. That done, she picked up her broom once again to start on the job she should have done earlier. As she gathered all the crumbs into a pile, she took glances at the door, which Goku never bothered to shut. The country side rolled and curved beyond it's frame, the dirt path disappearing behind a hill. Beyond that, she knew Goku was beyond those hills, and that he would be coming back to her.   
  
(Goku always keeps his promises...)   
  
  
  
Authors Notes: This concludes the first chapter of Makafushigi Adventure. At this point, I'd like to explain a couple of things about my story. First of all, this is a bit of an alternate universe. It takes place after the Cell Saga, but has two major changes to it.   
  
1#: Goku is still alive.   
  
2#: Chibi Trunks hasn't been born.   
  
I'm doing this to give myself a little leeway in writing this. (after all, it's kinda hard to write a story about DB when everyone's always having babies or when your main character is dead.)   
  
One more thing, Nyoibo and Kintu'on are the Japanese names for the Power Pole and Flying Nimbus (respectively.) Sushinchu is the Japanese name of the Four Star Ball. Just in case you didn't know…   
Until next time, Ja ne! ^_^   



	3. Chapter 2

  
Dragon Ball: Makafushigi Adventure   
  
By Reid M. Haynes   
  
Disclaimer: Dragon Ball and all characters within are the property of Akira Toriyama, TOEI ANIMATION, and various other companies. I am using them without permission, and I am making no money off of them.   
  
Legend:   
( ) Denotes thoughts.   
  
Tale 2: The Adventure Begins!   
  
*****   
  
The open sea was torn to shreds as the tight little air-coupe rushed over the waters, splitting them into jagged blades. The clear blue sky welcomed its approach as it zoomed towards the horizon, where their adventure would begin.   
  
"I still can't believe it!" Yamcha exclaimed as he guided the car's path over the ocean. "After all this time, we're finally going on another hunt."   
  
"It's been a long time," Goku agreed somewhat distractedly, staring at the sea behind him. "A long time…"   
  
The talk he had with Chichi had been awkward and confusing. She had been bothered by something, that he was sure of. But despite his best efforts, he couldn't pinpoint the cause. He tried his best to think about what was bothering her, but he realized he didn't have a clue.   
  
The thought train turning futile, he dropped it altogether. "Wonder how everyone's been doin'?" he said instead, opting for more pleasant talk.   
  
"Search me," Yamcha shrugged nonchalantly. "I just told them to meet us at Kame- House, so I really don't have any idea myself."   
  
"We considered ourselves lucky just to get a hold of them," Puar, the shape-shifting cat, popped up from the back. "We didn't bother with too much small-talk."   
  
"Right," Yamcha nodded his head, keeping his eyes on the sea before them.   
  
After crossing a few more leagues, he made a small turn, taking the coupe southeastwards. In a few minutes, they would reach the lower hemisphere and the small patch of islands within.   
  
"I spent the last week getting in touch with all our old group." Yamcha continued. "It got real tough sometimes, especially when you had reach places like Kame House.   
  
"Wow," Goku's eyes widened "I guess you guys have been busy, huh?"   
  
"Yamcha and I've been real busy!" Puar piped up, coming up from behind Goku's seat. "We weren't even sure we'd be able to go, what with Yamcha's pro baseball and all!"   
  
"Yeah, you never explained how you got away from that," Goku said, his eyes questioning. "It must've been tough, seeing as the season ain't over yet."   
  
"Yeah well, it helps if you have help in the right places…" Yamcha winked, then turned behind him briefly. "Puar! Show 'em!"   
  
"Right!" The cat-creature hopped up a bit from his seat. "MANAGER!" he called out, and a small burst of smoke filled the cruiser. When it was over, a seedy, 30ish baseball manager stood in place of Puar.   
  
"I'm not going to have my best player worn out!" Puar/Manager growled out, doing his best to emulate a manager's snarling snap. "If Yamcha wants vacation time, Yamcha gets vacation time!" He spat in a cup for good measure.   
  
Goku burst out laughing, snorting like a hyena. "Man, you guys are too much!" he managed to get out, before being taken over with mirth once again. Yamcha joined in, adding his odd chortles to Goku's.   
  
"What's so funny?" Puar demanded, his pride wounded. "I thought my impression was right on!" However, Puar was desperately trying to contain his own laughter. When he viewed the expressions on Goku and Yamcha's face, he started to let out small chuckles.   
  
Goku saw this, and morphed his face into an exaggerated scowl. "If Yamcha wants vacation time, Yamcha gets vacation time!" Goku hooted, imitating Puar's squeaky chirp.   
  
That was it for Puar. Giving up his front, he let out a fit of giggles, right before he burst into loud guffaws. He had no idea what he was a laughing at now: himself, Goku's ridiculous attempt at a scowl, or the entire situation. And neither did Goku or Yamcha.   
  
So the three of them continued laughing, as their craft headed to their destination.   
  
*****   
  
On a tiny island in the middle of nowhere, the threesome headed to a tiny house in the center.   
  
Yamcha knocked on the door lightly, and waited a moment. When he got no response, he knocked again.   
  
"That old geezer," Yamcha muttered. "I'll bet he's watchin' the aerobics channel again."   
  
"You know how hard it is to get his attention when he's 'busy.' Puar reminded Yamcha sternly.   
  
"Let me try," Goku said, walking up to the door. He clenched his fist as if to knock, then proceeded to pound on the door.   
  
"HEY OLD TIMER!!!" he screamed, slamming his fist again and again. "IT'S US! WE'RE HERE!!!" The door was starting to weaken with the pressure of the blows. Splinters of wood sprayed from the growing impression into the air.   
  
Just as the door was about to collapse, Kame Sennin. "All right, ALL RIGHT!" he hollered out at Goku. "What IS it?"  
  
"Hey, old timer!" he greeted him casually, as if nothing was wrong whatsoever.   
  
"For Kami's sake Goku, can't you leave a dying man in peace?" the Turtle Hermit complained to the unrepentant man before him. "The nerve of you young' uns, interrupting me in the middle of my 'workout!'"   
  
"Sorry!" Goku apologized as he followed the old man in. Behind them, Yamcha and Puar stood transfixed in shock.  
  
"Well, that'll work…" Yamcha sweatdropped. Puar just stared on, transfixed in shock. When they recovered a moment later, they headed on in.   
  
The floor of Kame House was littered with various articles, including hentai magazines, women's lingerie catalogs, the Sports Illustrated swimsuit edition, and just about anything featuring a hot girl in little or no clothing.   
In front of the TV was a small pig-like creature, watching the images intently. Upon taking a second look, Goku could see that this was the aerobics program that Roshi mentioned earlier. (I wonder why Oolong's watching this?) He thought to himself. I mean, it's not like he works out or anything…   
  
Oolong turned to the others and favored them with a scowl. "About time you slow pokes got here!" he barked out. "I'm getting stir crazy in this hut!"   
  
"Give us a break!" Yamcha retorted. " We got here as fast as we could!"   
  
"Sure, whatever," he mumbled, turning back to the screen. "Oh, well." Oolong said, his spirits brightening. At least I had the ladies to keep me company!" The pig let out a cackling laugh as be bounced up and down with the aerobics instructor.   
  
"Yeach!" Puar muttered under his breath. He then took Yamcha aside. "I can't believe you invited that dope, Yamcha!" he whispered harshly as soon he was out of earshot.   
  
"Hey, he was one of the guys!" Yamcha defended himself, taking an offended air. "I can't just ditch him. Besides, it just wouldn't be the same without him!"   
  
"Yeah, we wouldn't have the police chasing us down for those panties he stole," Puar sneered.   
  
"Actually, I'm kinda wondering why he wanted to go at all," Goku entered in. "Doesn't he hate traveling?"   
  
"Hah!" Yamcha let out a rough laugh. "Once he heard that Bulma was coming, the leach was off like a rocket!"   
  
"That perv!" Puar growled, clenching his tiny paws.   
  
"What would he want with Bulma?" Goku asked, scratching his head. "I thought he didn't like her."   
"Never mind," Yamcha sighed, turning away from his dense friend. Goku just stood there, blinking, then decided that he would head to the fridge for a snack. Opening its door, he took out a dish of salami, a leaf of lettuce, a loaf of bread, some salt and pepper, a quart of Mayo…   
  
9"Well, aren't you going to say 'hi?'" A woman's voice sounded from behind him.   
  
"Bulma!" Goku dropped the condiments and turned around to greet his friend.   
  
"I see you're already into the fridge." Bulma quipped, walking up to him. "Can't you wait for anything?"   
  
"Well, you know me," Goku chuckled, scratching the back of his head. "Always like to get a head start on things," She laughed at that, and Goku smiled.   
  
He took a closer look at her. Bulma really hadn't changed much since he last saw her. She had taken to wearing her hair at about shoulder length. But, other than that, she looked pretty much the same as she always did.   
  
"Look's like your friends are having a good time," Bulma pointed at the group watching the TV. Yamcha, in spite of himself, had managed to get hooked into the workout program. His eyes bounced in time to the aerobics instructor's squats, as if hypnotized. Puar was desperately trying to drag him away, to no avail.   
  
"Allow me," she pushed him aside gently, and cupped her hands to her mouth. "HEY PERVERTS!!! LET'S GO!!!" Bulma screamed at the top of her lungs.   
  
The entire room was silent as they stared at her. Slowly, one by one, they all got up from their seats and, in single file, they went out the door.   
  
"See?" Bulma winked as she walked out of the hut. "Nothing to it!"   
  
Goku stood there a moment, watching her go. Then a small smile appeared on his face as he followed her.   
  
(Nope, hasn't changed a bit.)   
  
*****   
  
The group of four stood alongside the house as Bulma prepped up their ride. Each had a different expression on their face, but the general feeling was the same. Goku's face was lit with a cheerful grin that as he looked on.   
Yamcha crossed his arms in an I'm-too-cool-to-be-excited manner, but the light in his eyes shone through the façade. Oolong was snorting with anticipation of the awaiting spoils. And Puar was jumping up and down, slightly hyper with eagerness.   
  
Soon, a vehicle swooped in from the left, hovering over the beach. It was a standard Capsule Corp jet, capable of seating 5 to 6 persons. It was small, but Bulma had assured them that it would seat them all comfortably.   
  
"Everyone ready to go?" she called out to the gang.   
  
"Yup!" Goku said.   
  
"Set!" Yamcha smirked.   
  
"Sure," Oolong snorted.   
  
"Yeah!" Puar squealed.   
  
They all raced toward the vehicle.   
  
"Mind if I join you?" A voice suddenly called from the blue, accompanied by the unmistakable sound of burning ki. All of them turned their head in the direction, and were witness to the arrival of a young boy in his late teens. Due to the amount of ki that radiated from him, the boy had obviously been flying at a high speed. His blue cardigan rustled in the wind, as did the lavender hair that framed his sharp features. Sapphire green eyes beheld the subtle wisdom of one twice his age. But his most unmistakable feature was the shining sword that lie pinned to his backside, waiting inside its sheath for the day it would be used again.   
  
Mirai Trunks.   
  
"Trunks!" Bulma rushed forward and hugged her son from the future, who embraced her with equal affection. "What are you doing here?" she asked once she released him.   
  
"I thought I'd visit my friends in the past," Trunks explained, settling into a relaxed position. "Since defeating the Androids, I've had a bit of free time. And since our timelines no longer affect each other, I thought I'd spend my vacation hanging out with you guys.   
  
"That's great, Trunks!" Goku said, walking up to his pal. "Hey listen, we're heading on a big adventure…"   
  
"Dragon Ball hunt, I know." Trunk's interrupted deftly. "I heard about it from Grandma."   
  
"So, you want to come along?" Bulma said, "I'm sure we can squeeze you in."   
  
"Sounds cool," Trunks responded calmly. "If no one cares, I'm in."   
  
"What do you think, guys?" Bulma asked the group. "Can Trunks come with us?"   
  
"That's cool with me," Yamcha shrugged.   
  
"I guess I can't complain." Oolong harrumphed.   
  
"Sure, no problem!" Puar jumped up, smiling.   
  
"All right!" she nodded, then waved her hand to the jet. "Then let's pack in!"   
  
One moment later the six adventurers were tucked inside the vehicle. With the new addition it was a bit cramped, but no one was too uncomfortable.   
At the helm, Bulma flicked the starter, and the jet's motor started humming. The sound of hydraulics resounded through the island. And a moment later, a burst of blue fire propelled the vessel outwards into the air.   
  
"Let's go!" she cried out to the open skies.   
  
And the hunt began.   
  
  
  
Authors Notes: Well that's the second part of this story. Getting excited? Getting anxious? You're still reading this, right? I'm getting to the fun part now. By which I mean the Dragon Ball hunt. (personally, I miss that aspect of Dragonball)   
  
Oh, and by the way, I'll be referring to Puar as a 'he.' I'm doing this because, quite frankly, I have no idea what 'his' sex is.   
  
Until next time, Ja ne! ^_^   



	4. Chapter 3

  
Dragon Ball: Makafushigi Adventure   
  
By Reid M. Haynes   
  
Disclaimer: Dragon Ball and all characters within are the property of Akira Toriyama, TOEI ANIMATION, and various other companies. I am using them without permission, and I am making no money off of them.   
  
Legend:   
( ) Denotes thoughts.   
  
Tale 3: Journey to the West   
  
*****   
  
Somewhere, deep in the regions of the West, a small jet shot over the countryside. Forests, rivers, and mountains passed below as the ever-moving horizon revealed more forests, rivers, and mountains, an endless collage of Nature's wonders, stretching farther than the eye could see.   
  
The Dragon Ball gang, plus Trunks, watched all of this with varying emotions: avid amazement, reserved excitement, and silent awe. Those that were awake anyway. Yamcha and Oolong had nodded off in the backseat, though, so they missed much of the scenery.   
  
"It's so beautiful!" Puar exclaimed, pressing against the glass. Trunks found his own eyes glancing toward the window.   
  
"Look at that!" the cat grabbed at his jacket. "Isn't it amazing, Trunks?" He pointed out at the scenery, and Trunks couldn't help but look out the window. There was a small mountain about a mile off. At its peak lay a small pond that somehow flowed over its side and into a ring alongside the base.   
  
"Yeah, it is," Trunks responded honesty. They lapsing back into silence, but he continued to watch the landscape avidly. The water ring poured into a river that eagerly rushed into the surrounding forests, as if anxious to eat into it's mysterious fruits. It snaked through aggressively, strafing through the trees angrily but deftly, as controlled a beast as Shenron himself.   
  
(It really is amazing,) he thought.( I've spent so much time in the cities, I've forgotten what wonders the earth can truly produce.) Trunks did his best to pick out the details in the environs, although he felt his virgin eyes couldn't comprehend the true beauty of it.   
  
His thoughts were interrupted by the sporadic beeping that initiated from the cockpit. Leaning over, he saw his mother glancing at a small radar in her hand. On it's screen shone seven dots that blinked on and off.   
  
"Mom, what's that device?" he questioned.   
  
"This?" She looked surprised at the question. "It's a Dragon Ball radar."   
  
Goku, who was riding shotgun, looked surprised as well. "You've never looked at one before?" he asked.   
  
"No," Trunks shook his head. "I've heard about it, but I've never actually seen it."   
  
"Funny," Bulma turned back to the controls. "I'd think I would shown it to you sometime." Trunks thought over this statement for a moment before reaching the meaning; she was referring to her future self.   
  
The beeping had picked up now, which had apparently pleased Bulma, for a smile grew her face.   
  
"Great!" she exclaimed. "We're getting closer, guys!" She bumped up the speed of the jet a notch, and accelerated toward the incoming signal.   
  
Beyond the mountains was a huge expanse of overgrown jungle, exotic in its appearance. Indeed, it looked like some thing out of some prehistoric picture book. And in the distance, as if to further emphasize the point, a pteranodon could be seen costing on a southbound current.   
  
"Trunks, this beeping indicates how close we are to the ball," she explained to her son. "The closer we are, the faster it beeps. Oh there it is again!" As the beeping picked up so did the craft. Bulma turned it slightly to the north, roughly in the direction of the pteranodon. The landscape rushed by them, the clouds flew through them, the target was clear.   
  
"Uh, Bulma…" Puar said quietly.   
  
We're almost there!" she cheered. The landscape rushed by them, everything was   
getting closer as Bulma's hopes got higher.   
  
"Bulma…"   
  
"Just a little bit more!" she pushed the throttle again, and the jet urged forward.   
  
"Bulma!"   
  
"Oh, what is it Puar?" Bulma finally snapped out, annoyed at the interruption.   
  
"LOOK OUT!!!"   
  
"WhaaaAAAA…!" At that moment, the entire craft slammed straight into the pteranodons wing. The ship buckled upon the impact, the glass covered with cobwebs of cracks. Worse still, the left wing was now completely useless, having been shredded into paper machete.   
  
"Uuuggghhh!" Bulma groaned, trying desperately to keep the falling craft under control.   
  
The craft was spinning out of control, cork-screwing and twisting like some Olympic diver. And then, like the diver, it took a nosedive.   
  
Straight into the jungle.   
  
"We're goin' down!" Bulma shouted.   
  
"We're gonna die!" Puar shrieked.   
  
"This…this isn't good," Trunks whispered.   
  
"AAAAAHHHHH!!!!!" everyone screamed as they plummeted downward.   
  
*****  
  
"Man, what a way to wake up!" Oolong muttered loudly, continuing to brush imaginary dirt from his overalls. "I think I have a wing stuck in my pants!"   
  
"Shut up, Oolong!" Bulma snarled behind her.   
  
"Yeah! Shut up, Oolong!" Puar chimed in, a surly grin on his face.   
  
"Why'd you go and crash the jet anyway, Bulma? Yamcha complained. "I was havin' this awesome dream, with baseball, and money, and lots and lots of girls…" His gaze grew hazy upon his evolving fantasy.   
  
"Shut up, Yamcha!"   
  
"Yeah! Shut up, Yamcha!"   
  
"Puar!"   
  
"Whoops! Sorry Yamcha!"  
  
The group was trekking through the dense jungle. Everyone clothes were caked with mud, save Oolong, who still made a show of "cleaning himself off." Trunk's used his sword to cut away the foliage, making the trip a little faster. But they still had ways to go.   
  
"Well, we all know who's fault this is anyway." Bulma narrowed her eyes, glancing at her companions.   
  
"Who's?" they asked simultaneously.   
  
"HIS!" She pointed her finger at Goku. "It's Goku's fault!"   
  
"Huh?" The accused stepped back, astonished. "How's this my fault?"   
  
"If you'd just used your Instant Transaction, we could've saved this long walk!" Bulma screeched at him.   
  
"That's Instant Transmission," he corrected her sternly. "'Sides, I thought y'didn't want me t'use my power. Thought you said it made it too easy." Goku smirked with satisfaction.   
  
"That was before we crashed our ship, you doofus!" she retorted.   
  
Trunks stepped in. "Guys, we shouldn't be fighting," he reprimanded. "We should be working together to get out of this!"   
  
The rest of the group turned to him, and took a deep breath.   
  
"SHUT UP, TRUNKS!!!"   
  
"Yeah! Shut up Trunks!"   
  
*****   
  
High above the arguing party, perched upon a small Cliffside, was a large pteranodon. He kept an eagle's eye upon the group, waiting patiently for any favorable events.   
  
Unique about this bird was the scar in place of its cranial fin, where a strong object has smashed down on it years ago. The whole story was that, when on one of his daily food runs, his eye happened to catch on a young human female. He had remembered once, a couple of years beforehand, that the human female boasted some of the sweetest meat available, especially when they were in their prime.   
  
It was upon taking this food to his lair when, out of nowhere, a small human boy shot into the sky and slammed a twenty foot red pole on his forehead. The pteranodon was always angry about this failure, this "catch that got away." It ached on his conscience that he could fail to retrieve the most elusive of pray. So he sulked, and he pouted, and then got on with his life, surviving on the lesser meat of the surrounding animals.   
  
But now, it was time for retribution.   
  
The pteranodon had a long memory, particularly concerning "the catch that got away." And a good thing too. For here, after almost two decades, was the same girl that had escaped him that fateful day. From the looks of her, she was quite a bit older. But she looked to have much of the same flavor as in her youth.   
  
It had been easy to tear apart the jet in which they flew in, due to the blade that reinforced his wingspan. It had been not-so-easy to make sure that they landed safely, but he managed that too. After all, it simply wouldn't do to have the goods spoiled before he got a chance to sink in. Live meat was always better.   
  
It appeared that she was journeying with several others of the human race…plus a couple of odd animal hybrids. But it was obvious that she wasn't on good terms with any of them, by the way she would holler out at them every two seconds. On this thought the pteranodon grinned a toothy smile. The meat was always spicier when seasoned with the condiment of stress.   
  
He now took note of the others in her party. There was a young purple headed human, a male judging by his build. He frowned at this; the males were never as tasty as the females. He continued with his analysis, and examined the second: another male, with scars covering his cheeks. Not tasty at all, he determined. The two hybrids might make a keen appetizer, but were very negligible.   
  
And then, out of the shield of the canopy, came another male, this one featuring hair resembling a claw sticking out of his head. This one wasn't tasty, either…but something about him was peculiar. He felt he had had a run in with this one before, but he couldn't pick out the place.   
  
It made no real difference anyway. All of the men were useless to him; he wanted   
only the woman. Yes, that's what he wanted, that's want he's wanted for half his life. And he was going to get it. He was going to get it very soon…   
  
*****   
  
"You're so stubborn!" Goku shouted, finally starting to get angry. "Why do you have to be like this?"   
  
"Because I'm cold, I'm wet, I'm covered in mud, and it's all your fault!" Bulma snapped back.   
  
"My fault nuthin'!" he snarled. "Just 'cause you can't have the patience for a little adventuring!" Goku steamed.   
  
"Well excuse me if I'm not a barbarian like you!" she waved her hands in exasperation.   
  
The argument had gone from petty to ugly. Bulma was beyond mad, just about ready to kill Goku for his idiocy. What was wrong with a little teleportation to ease up the travel, even if she did forbid it beforehand? But Goku had to pick this moment to be pigheaded and childish, and why the hell was he so mad anyway?   
  
(Man, I wish I had never gone on this trip.) Suddenly Bulma stopped her tirade. That last thought hadn't seemed quite right. She turned away for a brief moment to catch her breath. No, it wasn't right at all. She turned back to him, ready to end this trivial argument.   
  
But surprise fell on her face at seeing Goku's reaction. The righteous anger was gone, replaced with…sadness? Yes, his eyes were misted over with tears, his mouth was turned in an unhappy frown.   
  
"Do you really feel that way?" he asked quietly. In that instant he sounded so…hurt.   
  
"Goku, I…" she cut off abruptly, not knowing what to say.   
  
Oh man, did I say that last comment out loud? Bulma suddenly felt like the world's biggest jerk. She hadn't meant a word of what she said, but had taken out her frustration on Goku once again.   
  
"I'll take you home if you want me too." she noticed Goku had extended his hand. "We can be at Capsule Corp in less than a second."   
  
(No! I didn't mean it! I want to keep going!) Bulma wanted to scream out at him. Not for the first time, she felt guilty of her selfish attitude. But she kept silent, so Goku didn't hear it.   
  
They were quiet then. All that could be heard was the sounds of the leaves blowing in the breeze, the cool water flowing in a nearby stream, the intense rushing sound of an incoming predator…   
  
"Gotcha!" The pteradon swooped down and picked up Bulma with his hind legs, lifting her from the ground.   
  
"Bulma!" Goku gasped, his body instantly curling into a combat position.   
  
"See ya, suckers!" he snickered. "It's dinner time!" With a flap of his wings, the pterondon carried his captive up into the sky.   
  
"Gokuuu!" She cried out as she was taken away.   
  
*****   
  
The lush jungles rushed into a blur as Kintu'on, with Goku aboard, surged forward after the kidnapper, leaving a verdant vapor trail in it's wake. Its swirling path cut in wide arcs, spinning it's threat into any number of random montages that any artist would be proud to create, if he could illustrate this elusive wonder of nature.   
  
Goku maneuvered his cloud through the jungle, swooping deftly through the thick branches as he struggled to catch up with his foe. He ducked under a branch, strafed past a tree, spun on his side to slide between two branches, and followed up by turning upside down to evade yet another branch. He pulled every twist and spin imaginable, spiraling through the jungle in a crazy daredevil's course, each movement more impossible than the last, all of them executed flawlessly, almost causally.   
  
Swooping through an opening in the canopy, Goku caught sight of the pteranodon once again. With Bulma in tow, the beast was coasting to the mountaintop. Probably to enjoy his "meal" in the privacy of his lair.   
  
Well, he would have to take care of that one.   
  
His hand jerked to his back, perching upon Nyoibo. Whipping in out of its sheath, he cocked the red staff into position, gripping it like a club. His eyes narrowed upon his target, then he started the attack.   
  
"Grow, stick, GROW!!!"   
  
*****   
  
"Let go of me, you jerk!" The girl roared, kicking and screaming fiercely.   
  
"Yeah, keep screaming like that, girly," The pterandon chuckled, tightening his grip on her a notch. "Makes the meat fresher. Heh heh!"   
  
"You'll be sorry!" She looked up at him defiantly. "Goku's gonna come and he's gonna kick your ass!"   
  
"Ain't nobody gonna save you now," he growled out. "Your little buddies are miles away. Face it: you're my little hour'derve," The girl ignored him, continuing on with some more screaming, making more struggles and generally making the entire trip a big pain in the ass.   
  
Damn, that girl was annoying! If she weren't such a tasty treat, he'd have dropped her after 15 seconds of her incessant babbling. Who the hell was this Goku, anyway?  
  
Come to think of it, that name did sound familiar to him. Wasn't she shouting something like that the first time he met her? Yeah, she was hollering to that kid with the big hair and the big stick.   
  
This thought train was cut off by a small flash of movement in the corner of his eye. Turning around briefly, the pteranodon caught the image of a young man with big black hair, who appeared to be riding on…a cloud? Yes, the man was indeed flying on this strange phenonomon somehow. He was doing very well at it, too, for he had already caught up with him.   
  
And he was doing something else, too. He was reaching behind him, and pulling out some strange object. He was pulling the object back, then he started shouting out something. Suddenly the object started to stretch in length very quickly. Within half a second it was twice it's original length, then three times, then.   
  
Then the object started to resemble a large red pole. A large red pole…   
  
Big hair.   
  
Big stick.   
  
He looked up just in time to see the pole on a collision course with his head.   
  
Oh, shit.   
  
WHACK!!! and all further thoughts were lost.   
  
*****   
  
She was falling, falling. The wind whipped at her clothes as Bulma fell on a rapid descent to Earth. She looked down to see the trees approaching her at a fast rate. Limbs stuck out of the jungle canopy like spears, as if threatening to make her a real hour'derve.   
  
Before Bulma had a chance to panic, though, a large rod shot into the sleeve of her shirt. It crossed over her shoulder area and bolted straight out the other sleeve, without leaving so much as a scratch. The rod shuddered as it implanted itself into a rockface. And before she knew it, she was pinned to the mountain ledge, hanging on the pole like dirty laundry.   
  
Deja-Vu, indeed.   
  
A moment later, Goku showed up on Kintu'on. He stood there for a moment, looking at her oddly. "Um, are you okay?" he asked, a weird expression growing on his face. Bulma just hung there, not saying a word. They were like that for a minute more, not doing anything.   
  
Then they both burst out in outrageous laughter. Bulma laughed so hard that tears came out of her eyes. Even Goku was almost crying as he let out huge guffaws.   
  
When they were finally done, Goku took hold of the pole. "I'll help you down," he said, a trace of laughter still in his voice. Grabbing hold of Nyoibo, he tilted it at an angle, and Bulma slowly began to slide down. When she reached the end, Goku caught her with one arm just as she began to fall off. Drawing the staff out of the rock, Goku shortened its length, and finished up by placing it back in the sheath.   
Kintu'on started moving again, and they headed back to the others.   
  
Bulma, snug in Goku's grip, looked at him curiously, trying to pick out any sign of anger. Wasn't he still mad at her? She took a breath of air, getting ready. She wasn't really good at apologizing, but she wanted to make sure everything was all right between them.   
  
"Uh, Goku?" she asked somewhat nervously, looking at her twiddling fingers.   
  
"Hmm?" he said distantly, concentrating on the traveling.   
  
"About before…" she cut off. Man, this was going to be tough.   
  
"Hey, don't worry about it!" Goku said, and Bulma was shocked by the remark. There was no way he was over that so quickly. No way.   
  
But when she saw his smile, she got all the reassurance she needed. Just like that, he had forgiven her. She really shouldn't have expected anything less from Goku, the Saiyan that could let even Piccolo slide if he mended his ways.   
  
With that, she let a smile craw on her face as they continued onward.   
  
*****   
  
Back in the jungle, Trunks sat on his haunches, shining his sword with a fallen leaf. When it accidentally got sliced, he just picked up another leaf and began the process anew. He kept on the process very diligent for something that was completely unnecessary and/or stupid. Yamcha absently fiddled with a twig, a bored expression on his face. Occasionally, he's use the trig to pick something between his teeth, but stopping when he ended up getting dirt in his mouth. The two shapeshifters occupied themselves in their own way.   
  
Oolong yawned loudly. "Aren't they back yet?" he grumbled impatiently, slumped against a tree.   
  
"Just a little bit longer," Puar responded, while pacing back and forth.   
  
"Hey, guys!" They all looked up upon Goku and Bulma's arrival.   
  
Goku hopped off of Kintu'on and set Bulma down. "We're back!" he perked.   
  
"Miss us?" she winked playfully.   
  
"It's about time!" Oolong stomped over to them. "Why'd you guys take so long, anyway?"   
  
"Well if Goku hadn't taken his cloud instead of flying himself, we've been back in plenty of time," Bulma sneered, putting her hands on her hips.   
  
"Well if you hadn't insisted on stopping at that spring, everything would've fine," Goku smirked, a satisfied air about him.   
  
Trunks looked at the twosome. They were arguing again, but something was different about them. Bulma was all smiles now, her face beaming with mirth. Goku was his cheerful self as well. Neither of them showed any signs of malice toward the other. It was almost…playful. Like two best friends that just made up after a little tiff.   
  
"Um, are you two alright?" he asked tentatively, ready for an explosion of anger. It didn't come.   
  
"Sure," Goku grinned. "We're fine,"   
  
"Yup," Bulma nodded. "Everything's peachy keen!"   
  
"You mean…you're not mad anymore?" he asked again.   
  
"Nah. We're cool." Goku shrugged nonchalantly.   
  
Trunks scratched his head, trying to make sense of it all. Whenever he heard Bulma arguing with his father, it usually ended up being a big ordeal that would take days to get over, if it happened at all. However these two just bounced back, carrying on like best friends. This wasn't making any sense.   
  
Suddenly Bulma slapped her forehead. "I almost forgot about the Dragon Ball!" she called out. "Man, I bet its miles away by now."   
  
"The last time it was beeping was when we crashed into that prehistoric pissant," Oolong stated gruffly.   
  
Bulma and Goku got thoughtful looks in their eyes. It did seem like the beeping got louder the closer they got to it. Which meant…   
  
Goku's eyes suddenly lit up. "Bulma, do you think…?" he began, and Bulma nodded.   
  
"Let's find out!" She took off towards the mountain. "C'mon, Trunks!" She called behind her.   
  
Trunks blinked a few times, then shrugged. He could examine this later. For now, he followed the group to the fallen pteranodon.   
  
*****   
  
"We found the Dragon Ball! We found the Dragon Ball!" Bulma and Goku danced around the corpse of the pteranodon, cheering and laughing like school-kids that had been let out early.   
  
"Alright!" Yamcha spun the Dragon Ball on his index finger. "This is awesome!" The ball glowed with a soft light, as if to emphasize his point.   
  
"We found the Dragon Ball! We found the Dragon Ball!" The two continued, hopping on the pteranodon's head in glee.   
  
"Yeah yeah, enough already," Oolong growled out stubbornly. "You're wakin' the entire jungle!" He settled into a sulking crouch.   
  
"Don't be such a square, Oolong!" Puar chided, though a smile remained on his face. "Be happy!" The cat grabbed Bulma and Goku's hands, dancing along with them. "We found the Dragon Ball! We found the Dragon Ball!"   
  
Trunks couldn't help smiling at the ridiculous display. The atmosphere was just so carefree, as if everything was right with the world. There was no Frieza to worry about, no Androids, no Cell. Just a good time with friends.   
  
His thoughts turned to Goku and Bulma, who were now playing catch with their Dragon Ball, along with Yamcha and Puar. The smile remained on his face.   
I guess in spite of everything, they truly are best friends.   
  
*****   
  
The celebration died down, and the group had managed to finally get out of the jungle and onto a dirt road, where they could finally use a Capsule Car to speed things up.   
  
"Okay now!" Bulma said, looking at the Radar. "The closest ball is South-West at about 220 degrees."   
  
It shouldn't take us more than two days to reach it in this bug." Yamcha supposed.   
  
"Then…" Bulma flicked on the starter, prompting the engine to purr enthusiastically. "Let's get on it!" She slammed her foot onto the accelerator.   
  
And they were off again.   
  
  
  
Authors Notes: Whew, that was a toughie! Took me two weeks to finish! Brownie points to anyone who can remember the pteranodon from the first episode of Dragon Ball.   
  
Until next time, Ja ne! ^_^   



	5. Chapter 4, Part 1

  
Dragon Ball: Makafushigi Adventure   
  
By Reid M. Haynes   
  
Disclaimer: Dragon Ball and all characters within are the property of Akira Toriyama, TOEI ANIMATION, and various other companies. I am using them without permission, and I am making no money off of them.   
  
Tale 4: Kakarrot the Carrot, Part 1  
  
*****   
  
The late afternoon sun beat down on the parched desert as the Dragon Ball Gang took to the open road in their Capsule Car, ready for the upcoming adventures.   
Goku rested silently on the bed of the truck, snoring loudly into the desert air. Yamcha as well was asleep. The shapeshfiters occupied themselves in their own way, playing a game of cards. And Trunks, riding shotgun, contemplated his own strange thoughts in his head.   
I don't get it. he pondered, words entered his head rapidly. Mother and Goku are acting so differently than usual. They're so carefree, like they're still kids.   
Maybe that's where I should start… "Hey Mom," he asked.   
"What is it Trunks?" Bulma said while driving.   
"Can you…" Trunks swallowed, gathering up his nerve. "Can you…tell me about your childhood?" he got out finally.   
"Well sure!" She let out a big smile. "What do you want to know?"   
"Well…I was wondering about the Dragon Ball Hunt," he asked tentatively. "I haven't really heard much about it."   
"Hmm…" Bulma paused for a moment, collecting her thoughts and memories. "Man I haven't thought about this in years!" she said thoughtfully, putting her hand to her chin. "Well I'll do my best," she resolved firmly.   
"I guess it all started when I was 16," she began. "When rummaging through the basement one day, I found a strange orb. I didn't think much of it at the time, it just looked like another strange bauble of Dad's."   
"After doing some research, however, I eventually discovered that this was a Dragon Ball, and it had the ability to grant any wish upon collecting its six counterparts. Well, you can imagine my haste in getting my wish granted."   
"Which was…" Trunk's prompted.   
"A boyfriend," She blushed at this, and Trunks laughed briefly.   
"Anyway, as soon as summer vacation started, I hopped into my car and headed to the East, where the remaining six were located. So I was cruising along…then BAMM!!!" Bulma made a brief motion with her hands. "I run into this little kid dragging a giant fish! For a second, I thought he was dead. But then, the kid jumped up, grabbed the car, and chunked it three meters into the ground!"   
"This kid, was he…"   
"Goku?" she glanced at him briefly. "Yup, that was him alright. And boy, was he mad! I was afraid he was gonna bash me with that pole of his!"   
"…" Trunk's gaped at her for a moment, but motioned for her to continue.   
"After some confusion, I managed to convince him to join my cause. He wanted to see the Dragon, and I needed a good bodyguard."   
"So we headed off to get the other balls. And I tell you one thing, that runt was the most naive person you could ever meet. He didn't know anything about the outside world, or how people act, or anything! Heck, he didn't even know that you were supposed to take bathes in private!"   
"Whoa…" Trunks raised his shoulders in shock.   
"Yeah," she rolled her eyes upward. "Embarrassment city."   
They stalled for a minute more as Bulma took a look at the map.   
"But…" She looked back up. "While he was the most dense boy you could meet, he was also the most pure-hearted." Her eyes took a distant look. "Selfish thoughts never seems to enter his head, and he'd never hold a grudge against anyone. He always knew how to brighten anyone's day…"   
"Who brightens up anyone's day?" Trunks looked back to see Goku, wide awake and grinning like an idiot.   
"Goku! I thought you were asleep!" Bulma gasped, blushing a bit.   
"Nice story," he stretched out for a second. "Tho' I think you got somethin' wrong."   
"Huh?" Both Bulma and Trunks looked at him curiously.   
"You said you were gonna with for a lifetime supply of strawberries 'fore you wanted a boyfriend," he pointed out.   
"I can't believe you remember that!" she exclaimed, and Goku grinned at her.   
"I remember lot's o' things," Goku told her smugly. "Like when you gave that Swee-Trot to Oolong, and we kept whistling and making him go every five minutes."   
"Yeah!" Bulma said, smiling back at him. "And the time you were all dressed in drag to attract that monster,"   
"And how about the time we first met Master Roshi, and he said he'd give you the Dragon Ball if you'd show him your…" His words were cut off by Bulma's hand, covering his mouth firmly.   
"Uh…let's not tell little Trunks 'that' story, 'kay?" Bulma whispered, glaring daggers at him.   
Goku sweated. "Uh…'kay." he said nervously.   
Trunks sweated as well.   
  
*****   
  
Two hours later, the truck reached a small town on the outskirts of the riverbank.   
Like many such towns, it seemed composed entirely of the igloo-like structures that were characteristic of the area. Dirt roads connected the township's buildings, and simple wood signs spoke store names. The people were simplistic as well, content running small shops and tending small farms and very grateful to be out of the confines of city life.   
But, like all such towns, secrets were abound, and a Dragon Ball was near.   
"Wake up, Yamcha," Bulma said, shaking him lightly. "We're here."   
The young man staggered upright slowly. "Wh-wha…?" he gurgled, blinking his eyes groggily. "Waz goin' down?…"   
"The next Dragon Ball's here, that's what!" she snapped impatiently at him, who continued to sag idly "Now get up!"   
When Yamcha failed to respond, she fixed her arms under his armpits, lifting his bulk upwards." C'mon!" she grunted, heaving with the effort of her willpower.   
But, like most dead weight, gravity remained supreme. "Ak!" she shrieked as Yamcha toppled into her, sending them both to the ground in a twisted heap.   
Goku started laughing once again. "Need a little help with your luggage, Bulma?" he jibed lightly.   
"Very funny," she growled, settling into an aggravated humph alongside the slumbering fighter.   
Trunks stepped outside of the vehicle, stretching his body out ???. "So what's the plan?" he asked causally.   
Well, according to the Radar, the Dragon Ball should be…" Bulma took a second look at it. "…one mile eastward! Let's go!" She turned to the shapeshifters. "Hurry up, guys," she called.   
"Right after this hand," Oolong's face was contorted in concentration, contemplating his hand with fierce intention. After a moment more, he thrust the cards onto the table.   
"Hah! Three Queens!" he cheered in triumph, raising his finger in the air. "Beat that, little kitty!"   
Puar just sat there for a moment. Then, slowly, he revealed his hand, which consisted of four kings and a joker.   
"Damn it!" he spat as Puar proudly gathered his winnings. "  
"Actually, it doesn't surprise me at all," Bulma stated bluntly. "Your face reads like a book, Oolong."   
"Ah, shaddap!" The pig snorted. "What do you know about poker anyway?"   
"Lighten up!" Bulma reproached. She then reached into her pocket, and came up with a small tablet. "Here, have a Sweet-Tart," she offered, presenting him with the treat.   
"Thanks a lot," Oolong snarled, snatching it from her hand. After he popped it in his mouth, he looked up and found that Bulma and Goku were giggling like crazy.   
"What are you laughing at?" he demanded as the two continued chortling. "What the hell's so funny?"   
"N-nothing!" she snorted, trying in vain to cover up her giggles.   
"Yeah, nuthin'…!" Goku nodded, putting his hand over his mouth.   
"Right," Trunks agreed, walking in step beside them.   
Oolong his gaze shirting between the two of them. Then he shrugged in defeat, and followed the others.   
"Yamcha, let's go!" Puar called to his friend.   
"H...huh?" Yamcha lazily lifted his eyelids, then bolted upright upon seeing his group disappear into the distance. "Hey…HEY, WAIT UP!!!" Yamcha shouted as he took off after them.   
  
*****   
  
Unbeknownst to our heroes and heroine, a figure was seated on a building top, watching them closely. Through binocular glass, this mysterious watcher trained his eyes on this crew with keen interest.   
"Yes, that's them, alright!" he chuckled to himself, gripping the binoculars tighter. "Finally, after all 'dese years, I've finally caught up with them!" He clenched his buckteeth in anticipation.   
"Sir," Interrupting his thinking was the sound of his guard. "I've come to deliver my report!" How frustrating! he thought to himself. I must teach these bozos some respect!"   
Boss Rabbit pushed himself up, and straightened out his Chinese robes. He then turned to his subordinates, adopting as dignified an expression as a giant bunny could portray.   
"What's the dilly?" he inquired calmly, hands clasped behind him.   
The short one stepped up, saluting smartly. "Sir, we have knowledge of a carrot shipment in the lower west quadrant," he reported sternly.   
"The guards surrounding the premise are few," The taller of the two added. "If we strike now, we should be able to…"   
"Drop it," Boss Rabbit said quietly.   
"Huh?" The guards stepped back, shocked "Boss, what…?"   
"I said drop it!" He hollered, raising his voice commandingly. "We's have bigger fish to fry!" He handed the tall guard the binoculars, who took them and slowly put them to his face.   
When he made out the travelers, his mouth widened in surprise. "That's that little punk with the stick!" his gasped, his eyes goggling.   
The short one snatched the binoculars and snarled at the image within. "And there's his little friends, too!" he growled in disgust.   
"Yes,"   
"So, what are we gonna do?" The taller henchman asked.   
"What's we gonna do?" Boss Rabbit stared at his minion like he was an idiot. "I'll tell you what's we gonna do! We's gonna go down 'dere, see, and then we're gonna get our revenge for all those years on the moon!"  
"But boss…"   
"Listen up," The bunny waved him off, starting his pacing. "For twenty years we've been on the run, hidin' from coppers, storeowners, even common bums! Now's the time for action!"   
"Yeah…"   
"Now's the time that we crawl out of our rabbit hole and kick some ass!"   
"Yeah!"   
"We'll ice these suckers before they even know what hit them! And then, 'dis burg will fear the name "Rabbit Gang" once again!"   
"YEAH!!!"   
"Let's DO IT!" Boss Rabbit raised his fist in the air.   
  
*****   
  
"What the hell?" Trunk's was just passing the Capsule Corp branch when suddenly the group was peppered with machine gun fire. He pivoted his neck to get a look at his assailants, which were…strange men wearing bunny ears.   
"It's the Rabbit Gang!" Oolong cowered, covering his head in his hands. "We're doomed!"   
Of course. The Rabbit Gang. Mom sure has some weird friends.   
"Oh damn, not these guys again," Yamcha muttered, letting out a low growl.   
"Guess we'd better fight 'em," Goku spoke casually, drawing Nyoibo from the sheath. Yamcha followed suit, curling into the Wolf Fang fighting position.   
Putting his confusion aside, Trunks drew his sword and began to deflect the bullet hail. With precision he manipulated the blade, knocking the slugs into alleys, pots, and other areas where they would do no harm.   
Goku, as well, was catching bullets with his weapon. Nyoibo was spinning like a windmill, serving as a shield for the Saiyan warrior. Yamcha was restricted to defending barehanded, but was doing a decent job, in that no bullets had hit yet. The others were huddled together behind the fighters, trying not to get hit.   
Then, one bullet broke through Yamcha's guard, and ripped through the side of his gi. "That's it," Yamcha gritted his teeth in anger, and rushed at the shorter one. His hands started to form into claws…   
"SHIN ROUGAFUUFUUKEN!" …and he let loose with a barrage of slashes that tore through the soldier's uniform, finishing up with a kick that sent him into a brick wall, where he remained unmoving.   
Trunks as well was moving in for the attack. Ducking under a round of fire, he rose up to slash his blade through the tall guard's gun barrel, rendering the weapon useless. He then smacked the hilt on the man's head, knocking him unconscious.   
"Who sent you?" Trunks demanded, placing his sword back in the sheath.   
"Boss Rabbit got a beef with you punks!" The short man told him. "He told us to rub you out!"   
"Boss Rabbit?" Bulma's eyes widened in recognition. "You guys wouldn't happen to be the "Rabbit Gang," would you?"   
"The one and only!" the man puffed up with pride. "And we're here to exact his revenge!"   
"What he so mad about, anyway?" Goku asked.   
"You put us on the moon, you idiot!" The tall guard hollered at him. "Don't you remember?!"   
"Oh that!" Goku laughed lightly, kicking the machine gun aside. "Hey, that was a long time ago. Can't we just, you know, forgive and forget?"   
For some reason, the short one found this amusing, "Sure, pal!" He snickered. "As soon as our boss comes and finishes you off, we'll forget!"   
"Let him try!" Bulma taunted. "We beat you guys last time, and we can do it again!"   
The tall man cracked a sinister smile. "Oh, but this time plans have changed!" he said snidely.   
"Huh?" Goku rubbed his head, perplexed. "What's so different about this?"   
"We've learned our lesson in who we get first." The short one told them, a similar smile pasted on his face. "Instead of getting the dame…"   
"We's rubbin' you out first!" Boss Rabbit said, coming up behind Goku and inflicting the "carrot touch" on his spine.   
  
*****   
  
Son Goku was the most powerful fighter the universe has ever witnessed. He could exceed speeds faster than light, and crack the earth with a single punch. He was invincible to all conventional weaponry, and to all but the strongest fighters.   
However, all of that meant very little when exposed to the Carrot Master's touch. And thus Goku, like everyone else, was turned into a carrot.   
"Hahahah!" Boss Rabbit crowed as he plucked the carrot off the ground. "That's one!"   
"What the…" Trunks stepped back, his eyes transfixed in shock. "Who the hell is that guy?"   
"That's the Carrot Master," Yamcha explained hurriedly, keeping his eyes on the baneful bunny. "Anything he touches is turned into a carrot."   
"Well, I'm gonna stop him!" Trunks rushed at him, fist outstretched.   
"Trunks, don't touch him!" Yamcha cried. But Trunks couldn't stop his descent. And as soon as he touched the rabbit, he was turned into a carrot.   
"HAHAHAH!" he cackled some more. "That's two!"   
"Trunks!" Bulma screamed out in vain.   
Yamcha glanced at her in concern. Due to this, he didn't notice Boss Rabbit until it was too late.   
"BWAHAHAH!!!" he picked the third carrot off the ground. "And that's three!"   
The carrots were pocketed quickly. "Guess that wraps things up on the battlefront!" he sang, turning to the remaining victims. "Now, all that's left is the clean up!" He grinned viciously.   
Bulma was not cowed, though. She stepped up to Boss Rabbit in a huff. "You change them back right now!" she demanded angrily, shaking her fist.   
"Yeah!" Puar stepped up, putting his tiny hands on his hips." Change them back!"   
"Please don't hurt us, Mr. Rabbit," Oolong begged, hiding behind Bulma. "We'll do whatever you say!" Bulma and Puar nearly facefaulted.   
"Heh heh!" Boss Rabbit snickered at them. "You really should listen to your little piggy friend, before I put you into my carrot-cake!"   
The rabbit adopted a cocky demeanor, infuriating the group to no end. Bulma eye twitched Puar in particular was incensed, what with Yamcha being 'carrotized' and all. Oolong just continued to cower timidly.   
"How about 'dis?" Boss Rabbit proposed, causing the groups ears to perk. "If you say, 'I pledge my allegiance to the all powerful and super sexy Boss Rabbit,' I might spare your measly little lives."   
"THAT'S IT!!!" Bulma has to strain to hold back Puar, who was rushing towards the bunny with murder on his mind.   
"Puar! Stop it!" she cautioned.   
"Cut it out, you idiot!" Oolong snapped, peeking out from Bulma's legs. "You'll get us all vegetablized!"   
"Let me at em'!" The kitten struggled against Bulma's grasp. "I can take this lop-eared loser! C'mon, just one punch! C'mon!"   
"Whoa!" Boss Rabbit took a few steps back from Puar, lest he feel his wrath. "Hey, can't you keep your pet under control?" he asked Bulma in an irritated voice.   
"He's not my pet!" she snapped back in between breaths.   
"DIE!!!" Puar continued to fight her hold, and succeeded in freeing an arm. With another wrench, he regained a leg, then another arm. And with a final tug, he was free again.   
Just as Puar was about to exact his vengeance, Boss Rabbit held up his hands. "Alright, time out!" he called, slapping his hands against each other. Puar stopped his course just before he reached striking distance, but kept his fist cocked at the ready.   
"Look I'm sick of all this crap. I don't gots all day to waste with you mugs!" Boss Rabbit settled back into his slouch, out of immediate danger. "So, since I'm such a good guy, I'll give you one change to get back your pallies!"   
"We're listening," Bulma nodded, and Puar slowly floated back to the others, somewhat disappointed.   
"Yeah, as I said, you can have them back," The rabbit turned his back for dramatic effect. "If…"   
The group craned their heads forward.   
"If you can beat me at Five-Card-Draw!" he burst out, raising his hands for emphasis.   
"Huh?" The group gaped collectively.   
"Yes, well, I've always been a fan of a good old fashion card game," Boss Rabbit folded his arms calmly, amused by their reactions. "Throughout history, us Rabbit Gang leaders have always trained in the art of the game. It's our pride as masters of the Carrot Touch." Bulma groaned inwardly at the silly display. It was almost as if he was trying to act like Vegeta. Or something.   
"So how's about it?" he smirked arrogantly. "You be up to the challenge, cutie?"   
"And if I win, you'll really let them go?" Bulma questioned, her eyes narrowed in suspicion.   
The rabbit crossed his heart swiftly. "Gambler's honor," he bowed melodramatically.   
Bulma trusted this rabbit about as far as he could throw him. She was sure he had some sort of scheme planned for the occurrence that she might actually win. But, with the stakes being so high, she couldn't afford to take the chance.   
With that, she sighed in resignation. "Okay, you've got a deal," Bulma agreed reluctantly.   
"Sweeto!" Boss Rabbit grinned crudely. "Let's shake on it!" He held out a paw to her.   
Bulma just stood there, unblinking. Puar cracked his knuckles warningly.   
"Kidding," Boss Rabbit sweated nervously, retracting the hand.   
"Yeah," Bulma said in a dark monotone.   
"Anyways, we'll meet up t'morrow at the old warehouse," He turned from Bulma, and crouched low. "Ciao!"   
Boss Rabbit bounded towards the roof, landing with a soft thud. A couple more leaps, and he was out of sight, headed to wherever giant bunnies spend their nights.   
Bulma, Oolong, and Puar watched him go, their faces blank.   
"I still think you should've let me kick his butt," Puar commented.   
  
*****   
  
Authors Notes: Because of the size of this file, I'm having to split it into two parts. Take a look on Monday to see the conclusion.   
  
Until next time, Ja ne! ^_^   



	6. Chapter 4, Part 2

  
Dragon Ball: Makafushigi Adventure   
  
By Reid M. Haynes   
  
Disclaimer: Dragon Ball and all characters within are the property of Akira Toriyama, TOEI ANIMATION, and various other companies. I am using them without permission, and I am making no money off of them.   
  
Tale 4: Kakarrot the Carrot, Part 2   
  
*****   
  
Later, at a small hotel near the center of town, the remaining three Dragon Ball hunters sat crouched in the room, thinking on how to best Boss Rabbit.   
  
"So it's all gonna happen tomorrow, right?" Oolong said, munching on a small carrot. "Are you sure about this Bulma?"   
  
"Quiet, I'm trying to think," Bulma sat cross-legged on the floor, her hand stroking her chin absently. Then, as an afterthought, she added: "And please, stop chewing on that carrot. It's giving me the creeps."   
  
"Geez, what a grouch!" Oolong humped, pouting mock-dejectedly. After a moment, though, a devious smile slowly crossed his lips. Taking the carrot between his two fingers, he swiftly thrust it into Bulma's face, wiggling it back and forth. "'Hello, my name is Son Goku!'" he squeaked, mimicking Goku's backwoods accent. "'What's for dinner? Oh no, it's me! AAAHHH!'" With a flourish, he popped 'Son Goku' in his mouth and split it in two with a satisfying crunch.   
  
"OOLONG!!!" Bulma hollered out, reaching for him with clawed hands. "That's NOT HELPING!!!"   
  
"AHAHAHAHAH!" Oolong dodged her assault and zipped over to the opposite end of the apartment.   
  
Bulma stood up slowly, her fingers curling up in rage. "When I get my hands on you Oolong, I swear I'll…"   
  
"Will you two cut it out, please?" Puar said finally, glaring at them in disgust. "We gotta figure out how to get Yamcha and the others back!" That said, he turned back to his book, '1001 Poker Tricks for Victory!'.   
  
"Hey, don't go acting like the big leader now!" Oolong rebuked him, whipping out an extended finger "Besides, there's nothing to think about anyway. Bulma's gonna beat the bunny at cards, and then everything will be fine and dandy!"   
  
"Um, well," Bulma suddenly lowered her head, her hands fumbling nervously. "There's kinda one problem…"   
  
"What's is it, Bulma?" Puar placed his book on the chair, then hovered toward her. "C'mon, tell us!"   
  
"I don't know how to play cards."   
  
"W-w-W-WHAT!!!" Puar and Oolong lurched back, traumatized. Forgetting about the chair they pulled up, they lost their footing on it's legs and crashed to the floor.   
  
"H-how can you not know how to play cards?!" Oolong got out when he recovered.   
  
"I just never learned how," Bulma shrugged nonchalantly.   
  
"So let me get this straight," Oolong put his palm to his temple in a vain attempt to calm his nerve. "You just entered a match with a master card player, with the lives of two of our friends and your son on the line, and you DON'T KNOW HOW TO PLAY CARDS?!"   
  
"Oh, stop being so melodramatic about it!" The young woman admonished, leaning forward. "So I don't know how to play. Big deal. How hard can it possibly be?"   
  
"How hard can it be?" Oolong jerked up. "HOW HARD CAN IT BE?! How DARE you insult the wide world of poker with such insolence! 'How hard can it be?' you say? I'LL tell you how hard it can be. I spend FIFTEEN YEARS learning the art, spending whatever free time I had when I wasn't picking on Puar learning, TRAINING, day and night! I didn't eat, I didn't sleep, I just sat there, taking in all that I could from the few books that I had to work with, the few books that were available at the town library. Did you KNOW, that I once spent FOUR NIGHTS without sleep, just so I could cram the last bits of knowledge about the full house into my brain?! DID YOU?! No, you were probably too busy chatting away with your girly-friends to even BEGIN to contemplate my intense suffering! But no, that's not all! I also had to hire trainers, the best in the business, to teach me anything I could get from the books, for which I had to work three jobs SIMULTANIOUSLY to pay for! But NO, I didn't complain. No, to be the best you have to make those sacrifices, something I'm sure you've never heard of. And that was my goal, to be the best! And then you, YOU who wouldn't know an ace from a cantaloupe, come popping off with your crap, thinking just because you're a whiz at computers means you can master the art of poker in one night! 'No sweat!" you say. 'I got it under control!' Well I'm SORRY, little miss prissy pants, little miss 'I'm Bulma, the super genius!', but it DOSEN'T WORK THAT WAY!"   
  
Oolong then fainted from lack of oxygen, sprawling onto the carpet.   
  
Bulma and Puar stared at him.   
  
"Wow," Puar breathed in silent awe. "That almost took half a page."   
  
"Don't get too impressed, Puar," Bulma folded her arms, her eyes rolling back. "It's just a cheep trick by the author to try to lengthen this fanfic above 500KB."   
  
The author sweatdropped nervously.   
  
"Anyway, what do we do?" Puar jumped up to the table. "The match is tomorrow, and we can't cancel it!"   
  
"The only thing we can do, Puar," Oolong said solemnly, once conscious was regained. "We just have to start at the beginning."   
  
"Which is…" Bulma raised an eyebrow.   
  
"CHEATING!"   
  
*****   
  
The town sweltered under the high noon sun as Bulma, Oolong, and Puar headed to the battlegrounds. The wind tousled her hair as she glared though the morbid heat at the warehouse's shadowed front. Dirt clouds were raised, and grass blades shivered in the dry wind. A tumbleweed rolled through the empty streets.   
  
In tune with the atmosphere, Oolong whistled a vaguely Western sounding tune.   
  
"Cut that out," Ignoring the pig's antics, Bulma calmly walked to the warehouse.   
  
At the front, Boss Rabbit's two goons guarded the double-doors. Upon the group's arrival, twisted sneers lurked onto their craggy faces.   
  
"Hey there, chicky boo," The short one leered at her, eyeing her more 'interesting' features. "It's too bad this ain't strip poker. 'Cause we'd be sure to play then." The tall one blew her a sloppy kiss, both of them laughing lewdly.   
  
"Out of my way!" Bulma snarled, shoving the two out of her way. Puar followed, taking a moment to give each of then a cold glare. Oolong sort of creeped along the ground, trying not to be seen.   
  
Inside the double doors, the warehouse was dark, squalid, and cold. The light from outside sent shadows across the otherwise unlit room, creating illusionary monsters against the boxes. Dust mites wafted through the air, bringing tears to the groups eyes.   
  
Then, the doors suddenly pulled shut, shutting off the only light source. The hum of civilization was muted as well, replaced by the echo of absence. Which left the group bathed in darkness, silence, and fear.   
  
"W-what's going on?" Puar's broken voice refracted back to them from the darkness. "What happening?"   
  
"T-they're probably just trying to scare us," Bulma whispered back, feigning confidence. Unsuccessfully.   
  
"But I am scared!" Tears came to his eyes, and he gripped onto her arm. "I want to go home!"   
  
"Stop that!" Bulma knelt down, gripping the kitten's shoulder. "Think of Goku and Trunks. Think of Yamcha!"   
  
This brought Puar around a bit. "Right!" Puar said, his confidence returning. His fist tightened with the memories of his friends' humiliation. "Okay, let's go."   
  
The group continued into the darkness, keeping a grasp on each other hands, all the while glancing about for any evidence of light.   
  
An unsanitary odor worked its way into Oolong nostril, agitating it. With a small grunt, he sneezed out the offending dust.   
  
"Gzuntight!" And then a sinister voice called from the darkness, startling them to a stop.   
  
"W-who's there?" Oolong's teeth chattered successively, his fear hidden to none.   
  
"It's him," Bulma muttered, a bead of sweat sliding down her temple.   
  
"Show yourself, rabbit man!" Puar called out, the anger rising within him.   
  
The figure complied, tugging on a cord. The light flickered on, revealing Boss Rabbit in all his glory, flipping a small coin. He was decked out a bit differently: a top hat was added to his usual getup, and his Chinese robes bore the kanji, "Gambler."   
  
"Well well wellywelly well well!" Snatching the coin out of the air, the bunny strolled on over to the group. "Look who's finally showin' up," The coin was airborne again, keeping up with Boss Rabbit's stride.   
  
"Yeah, yeah," Bulma's foot tapped against the ground. "I'm here, aren't I?"   
  
"Indeed," The coin fell into his grasp briefly before it was sent up again. "You seem confident that you'll win 'dis little shindig."   
  
"That's because we're gonna win!" Puar snapped, hopping up and down with fury. "You're toast! You're super toast!"   
  
Boss Rabbit ignored most of the cat's comments, catching the coin and walking to the end of the room. With his non-coin hand, he gestured to the room behind him: a small refreshment hall for tired workers. "Our room is right over there," he told her evenly. "We'll get started right away."   
  
Finally pocketing the coin, Boss Rabbit crossed his hands behind his back. "So," he said, in a soft but malicious tone. "Are you ready to face your better?"   
"Oh please," Bulma growled, turning her head in annoyance. "Let's just go already."   
  
While she turned her head, she winked at Puar and Oolong, who winked back. Then she followed Boss Rabbit into the room.   
  
*****   
  
The overhead lamp cast a moody atmosphere in the refreshment hall, casting a shadow on the sparse furniture within. The plastered walls swallowed up much of the light, lost within its deep, moldy cracks. The card table itself was nothing more than a standard carpenter bench, with a flashy cloth placed over it in blatant tastelessness. But, together with the light, the shadow, and the card stack in the center, the room was given the appearance of a shady saloon. The perfect place for a gambling showdown.   
  
Bulma kept her eyes on the rabbit across the table, judging his manner and confidence. Calmly, he was taking the cardstack from the center, strumming through them ritualistically. With a quick movement of his fingers, he skillfully juggled the cards between his palms, flashing streaks of red and black in a random, but orderly fashion. Once he had deemed it enough, he placed them back on the tabletop, cut the cards, and proceeded to deal.   
  
"Rules be simple," he said, placing his hand in front on him. "One draw, highest hand wins. We's be playin' three out of five." Once finished, he then dealt Bulma's hand, flicking the cards perfectly into place. Finally, he grabbed his hand and sorted it. "Let's begin."   
  
Rolling her eyes at the comment, she glanced at her hand. Let's see…there's this little short guy with a knife, with another short guy growing out of his butt. Then, there's these clovers, and some wacko with a staff. And the thing with the big 'A'…well, that must be the ace. And I suppose the other's the queen. She's all right, but not nearly as beautiful as me, though.   
  
That was when everything got a little strange. Bulma took a second look at the two of clubs…to discover it was no longer a two of clubs. The image of the suit had become blotted and smeared, like cheep watercolor paint. What had happened? Had water somehow got on the card, washing away the picture? No, that was stupid. Yet the image was continuing to swirl inside the confines of the card. The dark blots mixed and clotted up, morphing into a shapeless blob. Then, it stretched outwards, arranging its into a single humanoid shape. The black coloring faded out a bit, changing into the other colors: red, white, blue, ect.. And when it was done, the former two of clubs had morphed into the grizzled visage of an old man.   
  
The king of hearts.   
  
Huh?   
  
Panicked, she rubbed her hand over the surface of the card, checking for hologram surfaces, liquid crystal screening, in-built microchips, anything that made some sort of sense. But no, to all touch and feel it was a normal card.   
  
No! Normal cards do not change into other things! They stay the same, like a piece of paper should! They…  
  
"Hey sweet-cheeks, you gonna play with it all day, or you gonna make a change?" Boss Rabbit had already finished, and was impatiently tapping his finger on the table.   
  
"R-right," Ignoring the 'sweet-cheeks' remark, she continued to panic at her hand. She carefully analyzed the rest of he cards, and discovered that another change had been made. The three of hearts was gone now, replaced with the good humored grin of a Joker. Only this transformed did one more thing after it's metamorphosis.   
  
It winked.   
  
Oh. Suddenly Bulma's earlier confusion was gone, replaced by delight. So that's how they're gonna do it.   
  
She pulled the cards together. "Okay, I'm done," she said cheerfully.   
  
Boss Rabbit's eyebrows widened. "No way!" he said, dissatisfied. "Youse can't be done already!"   
  
"Yup," She nodded her head.   
  
The rabbit made as if to say something else, then shrugged. "Your call," he said, then started chuckling evilly. "Though I'm sure you'll be regretin' it…"  
  
With a flourish, he swept his hand onto the table. "Full House!" he cheered raucously. "Boss Rabbit is supreme!" He folded his arms, chuckling in victory.   
  
Bulma calmly nodded, and revealed her royal flush.   
  
"H-h-huhuhuhuHUHUHUHHUH!?!?!" Boss Rabbit's eyes broke through the glass of the shades, bulging three feet from his face. "That's I-I-IMPOSSIBLE!"   
  
"I guess I'm better than I thought!" Bulma smiled, pleased. "Must be due to my genius."   
  
"Fine then," Slowly regaining his cool, Boss Rabbit collected his hand and Bulma's. "Beginners luck I'll discount. It will change soon!" He didn't notice that the King and Joker had disappeared from Bulma's hand, mixing with the deck again.   
From then on, the rest of the match retained a distinct pattern. Boss Rabbit would reveal an exceptional hand, built on innate skill and years of experience. Then the novice Bulma would whip out some ridiculous combination that totally blew away whatever hand he managed to pull out. The stale air of the refreshment hall was filled with the shouts of "Three Kings!" and "No way!" and, of course, "HUH?"   
  
"So I guess that wraps things up!" Bulma said, after all was said and done. "Who would've thought I'd make such a good card shark!"   
  
Boss Rabbit laid his head on the table, emotionally drained. Three straight victories. He hadn't won a single hand.   
  
"No…NO!" he screeched, almost in tears. "It's not fair! How could a mere rookie best Boss Rabbit? It's just not fair!" He slammed his fist against the wood.   
  
"Don't be such a sore loser." Bulma reproached the bunny, who was wailing into the tablecloth. "Hey, how about this. We'll play one more game. I'll take the first card from the top, and try to guess what suit it is. If I guess wrong, I'll discount all of my victories."   
  
"Really?" he sniffed, wiping his eyes. "Youse givin' me anotha' chance?"   
  
"And I find win…" Bulma continued slowly. "…you hand me that object on the crate over there."   
  
Boss Rabbit walked over to the crate in the corner, where a small orange ball rested on top of it. Half-a-dozen red stars were arrayed it on, and a translucent light radiated from it.   
  
Chiishinchu, 'Six Star Ball.'   
  
"This piece o' junk?" Boss Rabbit said, picking it up.   
  
"M'hm," Bulma nodded.   
  
"…okay," he nodded slowly, a slow smile reappearing on his face. Then, with a cocky snicker, he flicked his shades back on. "Arright! You gots one chance ta pluck the right card. Dat's it!"   
  
"Whatever," Bulma yawned, putting her arms behind her head. "I say it's the three of spades."   
  
"Then…" More dramatic buildup ensued at the rabbit's whim. "…DRAW!"   
  
"Okay," she said as she picked the card. Three of spades.   
  
"W-w-w-w-W-W-W-WWWWWHAAAAAT!?!?!" Boss Rabbit's jaw hit the cement floor, breaking one meter into the foundation. His grip on Chiishinchu faltered, and Bulma plucked it out of the air.   
  
"How…" Boss Rabbit's goggled at the insanity of it all. "HOW???"   
  
"I just did." A smirk appeared on Bulma's face. "Now…my friends, please."   
  
Boss Rabbit was shaking with fury and disbelief. Slowly, deliberately, he unclenched his shaking fist and forced it into his pocket. Then he stopped.   
"Two out of three?" he tried weakly.   
  
"Uh uh," Bulma said impatiently.   
  
"Damn," Boss Rabbit cursed, rummaging through the pocket. He pulled out the three carrots, and placed them on the ground. He then proceeded with a little jig, ending with two claps. And, in a puff of smoke, Goku, Yamcha, and Trunks appeared from the enchanted roots.   
  
"W…what happened?" Yamcha murmured. "Where's the Rabbit Gang?"   
  
"Huh?" Trunks scratched his head in confusion. "What's Mom doing with that bunny? Does that mean she beat him, or what?"   
  
"'Guess it's over, then," Goku yawned, stretching his muscles. "I was getting' hungry anyway." A rough stomach growl emphasized his point.   
  
"I got the Chiishinchu, too!" Bulma said happily, presenting the ball to her friends. .   
  
"Really?" Goku face instantly broke into silly grin mode. "Then that means…"   
  
"We got the Dragon Ball! We got the Dragon Ball!" Bulma and Goku danced on the tabletop, knocking the deck of cards into a mess on the floor.   
  
"Just one question," A meek voice interrupted the twos celebration. They looked at Boss Rabbit, whose head was tilted downwards.   
  
"Yes?" Bulma's eyebrows widened expectantly. "Well, what is it?"   
  
The rabbit's lips were quivering, and his mouth was sealed shut. Then, it opened wide. "HOW!?!?!"   
  
Bulma slowly turned her head, looking over her shoulder at him. She snapped her fingers. "Show 'em, guys!" she cried.   
  
"Right!" Two cards, the three of clubs and the queen of diamonds, uplifted themselves from the table and shot into the air. Another burst of smoke filled the room.   
  
And when it was over, Oolong and Puar had morphed back into their original forms.   
  
"Hiya!" Oolong sneered, landing on the ground with a rough poomf  
  
"Tricked you good, didn't we?" Puar giggled cheerfully, floating effortlessly in the air.   
  
No reaction was visible from Boss Rabbit at the moment. After a while, however, the shoulders started quaking, the hands slowly curled up into fists. Then, his lips stretched wide, and his incisors grounded against the bottom row in pure rage.   
  
"You CHEATERS!!!" he burst out, raising his fists into the air. "You lousy, no good, stinkin' CHEATERS! YOU…"   
  
"Oh shut up, you stupid bunny!" Bulma spat in disgust, stooping him in mid rant. "Besides, its not like you weren't cheating too," With a small tug, she pulled on the rabbit's sleeve, spilling out dozens of aces, jacks, kings and queens.   
  
Naturally, this did nothing to pacify him. He hopped back a bit, and got into a battle stance. "I'll carrotize you all!" he threatened furiously.   
  
"I wouldn't do that, if I were you…" Bulma said, pointing behind her. Boss Rabbit turned around…   
  
To face the stagnant forms of Goku, Yamcha, and Trunks. Goku was sizing him up calmly, while Yamcha's eyes started to narrow. Trunks simply kept up the glare. None of them looked too pleased with being changed into vegetables.   
  
They stared him down for a moment more.   
  
Then they cracked their knuckles.   
  
"Should I…?" Goku started to say.   
  
"Go ahead," Trunks gave him the okay.   
  
Goku started towards Boss Rabbit, "Wait!" and Puar rushed up to him. "Use me!" he cried, transforming into a large sledgehammer.   
  
"Thanks!" Goku said, taking the hammer and smashing it down on Boss Rabbit's skull.   
  
The gangster was out like a light.   
  
*****   
  
Back on the outskirts of the town, the group was preparing its departure.   
  
"YAMCHAAA!!!" Puar sobbed, clutching onto his master's shirt. "I'm so glad you're alright!"   
  
"Yeah…" Yamcha said, a bit bewildered by the cat's devotion. Gee, I've only been out of it for 24 hours. But Yamcha held him close nonetheless, not wanting to upset his friend further.   
  
"I was so scared!" Puar continued to wail, burying his face in Yamcha's chest. "You were turned into a carrot, you weren't there, and I was afraid you were gonna get turned into a V8 health-drink!"   
  
"Yeah…." Yamcha started to sweat a bit, the cat's squeezing cutting off his circulation.   
  
"Yamcha Yamcha YAMCHAAA!!! I'm so happy you're safe!"   
  
"Kami, this is pathetic!" Oolong gagged. Tired of this sickening display of affection, he wandered over to the others, hoping for slightly different situations.   
  
"So I got changed into a carrot, huh?" Goku said nonchalantly, tossing the wrapper of his 64-foot sub in the trash. "Man, that must've been rough on Bulma!"   
  
"Probably," Trunks agreed. "Speaking of which, I'd better get her."   
  
"Nah, I'll get her." Goku said, starting for the clothes store, where she had said she would be shopping.   
  
*****   
  
Somewhere outside the shopping area, Bulma stood looking at the long road that lead out of the town and beyond. Her shopping bag lay beside her, filled with all the essentials: clothes, makeup, eyeliner, and a wax skin-rejuvenator. With a heavy sigh, she let out all of her stress that had built up during the resent fiasco.   
  
Throughout the past 24-hours, Bulma had been shot at, hit on, and had watched her friends get turned into carrots. Before that, her plane had been wrecked, her clothes had been ruined, and she had been carted off a large dinosaur with a taste for genius inventors. It was enough to drive anyone to the brink of insanity.   
  
Man, I love this.   
  
Bulma sighed wistfully. It was true that she was a bit of a softy; she liked to have all her creature comforts within easy reach. It was also true that she was controlling, and couldn't stand for one thing going wrong, which of course it did. And, oh yeah, she could whine and bitch like nobody's business.   
  
But, despite all the whining and all the complaining she did, she realized that, through it all, this was something she really wanted. Though it was inconvenient at times, roughing it in the wilderness was something she had finally gotten accustomed to, and was indeed part of the fun. Although Goku and company were infuriating at times, they made up for it with the carefree and happy presence they provided. And although she never knew what dangers lurked behind the bend, she that she could handle anything, with a little help from her friends…   
  
"Hey, Bulma!" Once again, Goku's shrill voice had broken her concentration. She turned to face him, ready to get on his case, discovering in-between that his entire face and most of his shirt was covered in submarine sandwich filler.   
  
"Goku, that's disgusting!" She scolded. "Clean yourself up right now! You're making me sick!"   
  
Goku picked off a salami slice from his forehead. "Uh…you want a piece or somethin'?" he asked politely.   
  
"GOKU!!!" She screamed, pulling out a large mallet from her back pocket.   
  
"Just askin'!!" he protested, stopping her in mid swing.   
  
The mallet disappeared to whatever sub-space it came from, and "What did you want, anyway?" she asked, annoyed now.   
  
"I came to tell you we're gonna be going, soon." Goku explained, then observed the heavy shopping "D'ya really need all those clothes?" he questioned.   
  
"Says you, Mr. 'one outfit all the time!'" Bulma shot back, pointing out Goku's lack of variety in apparel. "Besides, now at least I have back up for emergencies. You're going to have those salami stains the rest of trip. And you know that they don't let you in some of the restaurants without clean clothes. " She ended up with a small "ha ha" of victory.   
  
"Hey, slowpokes!" The two turned around. Oolong has appeared from the arc of the hill, looking very Po'ed. "You two are taking so long I'm about to mess up my pants!"   
  
"Really…" A look of pure evil grew in Bulma's eyes. She cupped her hands to her mouth. "Swee, swee, swee…!" she whistled softly. "Swee, swee, swee. Sweeeee…"   
  
The rumbling in Oolong's stomach was increasing with every 'swee.' The warning klaxons in his mind grew as they tried to warn his of the upcoming danger. A sickening groan was heard as his bowels gave way. And Oolong's eyes widened in realization.   
  
"Ah!" Oolong hollered, grabbing his buttocks in a mad panic. "Ah SHIT!!!" He hopped around desperately, trying to keep from soiling his undies.   
  
"Looks like Oolong will need a change of clothes too." Goku said.to her.   
  
"That's right," Bulma agreed.   
  
Then both Bulma and Goku started laughing as Oolong rushed to the nearest bush to do his thing, screaming and complaining all the time.   
  
*****   
  
The engine murmured quietly, conversing with the hydraulics and the fuel tank. Pistons beat in the synchronized order of an African tribal band, charging up it's audience of wheels and tires. And the exhaust pipes puffed forth bursts of enthusiasm, impatient to get going.   
  
As was the Dragon Ball Gang.   
  
"Next ball's three hundred kilometers North West," Bulma cried to the others. "Okay, let's GO!!!"   
  
And they were off once again.   
  
  
  
Authors Notes: Hot damn, that was a long one! I would just like to say here that Boss Rabbit is the most powerful character in Dragon Ball. Don't follow my logic? Let me explain:   
  
Goku can spend 27 episodes charging up his Genki-dama, drawing energy from the earth, sun, and stars. And it will do nothing.   
  
Boss Rabbit can defeat his foes by touching them.   
  
'Nuff said.   
  
Additional Disclaimer: 'Sweet Tarts' belong to the Wonka Corporation. V8 probably belongs to the V8 Corporation or, if it doesn't, it belongs to whatever corporation makes V8. -_-;   
  
Until next time, Ja ne! ^_^   



	7. Chapter 5

  
Dragon Ball: Makafushigi Adventure   
  
By Reid M. Haynes   
  
Disclaimer: Dragon Ball and all characters within are the property of Akira Toriyama, TOEI ANIMATION, and various other companies. I am using them without permission, and I am making no money off of them.   
  
Legend:   
( ) Denotes thoughts.   
  
Tale 5: Perspectives   
  
*****   
  
On a large, empty plane of pure whiteness, there stood figures of gargantuan proportions. They moved in an abstract, yet clearly patterned march, divided by dark streaks cutting thorough the milky surroundings. Their steady formation got more complicated as the front lines grew nearer and nearer.   
  
And at the very end of all this, a thick trunk of wood slid across the whiteness, guided by the hand of Kami. It cut into the universe's mantle, and from within it carved yet more figures. Then, as if Kami had grown tired of this game of war, the entire trunk had toppled into the wasteland, lifeless and dead.   
  
"Done!" Gohan cheered thusly, throwing his pencil aside of his calculus homework. It had taken him a bit longer than normal; almost two extra minutes, but he had still managed to stay ahead of his five-minute time limit. It simply wouldn't do to have his mom think he was slacking off.   
  
"Well, I guess I got through that all right," he said to himself. "Next time, though, I'm cutting the time to three minutes."   
  
"What are you talking about?" Startled by this new voice, Gohan turned to face a shorthaired girl sprawled along his bed. She wore baggy jeans, an oversized T-shirt and, currently, a very irritated expression on her face.   
  
(Oh yeah. I invited Videl over.) His mind suddenly clicked back into reality mode. He had had some homework that he didn't complete, which had forced Videl to wait for him. Man, how stupid could he get?   
  
"I'm sorry," he apologized to her. "I guess I got carried away a bit, what with the test and all."   
  
"Gohan, you're the best student in this grade," Videl got up from the bed, the cramps in her neck snapping with the effort. "Even high-schoolers have a tough time keeping up with you. Loosen up! Take a break now and then!"   
  
"That's what Dad keeps telling me," Gohan nodded once. "Of course mom tells me the opposite, so it gets kinda tough sometimes."   
  
Like himself, Satan Videl was also a straight-A student, though probably not quite as obsessive. Then again, with a father like Mr. Satan, it was amazing enough that she had turned out as well as she did. Which was very well, in Gohan's opinion. She had quickly moved to the top of the list of he friends… although Gohan hoped she would become a little bit more than that.   
  
"You know…" Videl put her hand to her chin. "I've never actually seen your father. What was he again? Some sort of fighter or something?"   
  
"He's a martial artist," Gohan puffed up with indignant pride. "The best there is!"   
  
She looked up at him. "Really?" she asked.   
  
"Yeah!" Gohan stood up, all charged up and ready to defend his father. "He's always training and trying to better himself. And when the chips are down, he'll never give up a fight. That's the kind of guy my dad is!"   
  
"I'd love to meet him," Videl said, walking up to him. "Is he gonna be home today?"   
  
"Well…no," He lowered his head. "He's gone on a trip with a group of friends."  
  
"That's what you said last time," she pointed out.   
  
"Well, I guess he's really not home a lot," Gohan muttered quietly, almost too quietly.   
  
"Man, can't he ever come home," she suddenly called out, startling him slightly. "Or doesn't want to be home?"   
  
"Hey, don't go knockin' my pop!" he burst out, suddenly very angry. "He may be out a lot, but he's always been a good dad to me. Alright?"   
  
"I'm sorry," she apologized. "I guess I got too nosy, huh?"   
  
"That's okay," he said. Getting up from his seat, he grabbed his coat. "Walk you home?" he asked her.   
  
"Sure," she responded, grabbing her bag and heading for the door.   
  
*****   
  
In the evening, Gohan walked the three-mile trail back to his house. The trees led only the most insistent light rays shine through, so the forest was given the appearance of a shadowy cave. The birds remained silent, as if intimidated by this moody setting, so Gohan was given a nice quiet stroll through the woods. That is, if he could quiet the screams of his own mind…   
  
What Videl had said was weighing against him heavily. What did she mean about 'spending time with mom and you?' Why wouldn't Dad be satisfied at home? It was true that Dad was never content to sit around and wax his boots. No, he was always going out to seek a new challenge, a new obstacle to overcome. But…   
  
Did he really have to be gone all the time? When Gohan really thought about it, he couldn't remember the last time his mom and dad laughed together. He could, however, remember the arguments they had, mostly about him. Both of them never seemed to see eye to eye on anything. Most of the time, he dismissed it as inconsequential or ever funny.   
  
But this time, it was starting to worry him.   
  
(I mean, I'm sure that most families aren't like this. The mom and dad are supposed to get along just fine, right? They're supposed to eat a nice meal, talk about the day, laugh at whatever antics their mutual friends did. Right?)   
  
Arriving at the door to the Son-house, he opened it brusquely and walked in. There was his mother, marking off another calendar date with the felt pen. Her eyes had a distant quality to them, not really seeing the calendar at all, but instead seeing the man that was supposed to arrive on one of those dates.   
  
(Again.) Gohan's mind spawned a million thoughts at once, and he franticly tried to sort them all. (She's keeps staring at that calendar like it's her lifeline. And then, he comes home and there's no warm welcomes or heartfelt declarations of love.)   
  
(I know that she misses Dad, but she never seems to enjoy his company. Why?)   
  
(Why?)   
  
And then, almost unintentionally, Gohan spoke up. "Mom?" he said softly.   
  
Chichi dropped the pen from her hand, as if trying to convince herself that she hadn't been staring at the calendar for minutes on end. "Yes, Gohan?" she responded, straightening up.   
  
"Mind if I ask you something?" he continued, still speaking softly.   
  
"Go on," she nodded.   
  
Gohan took a deep breath, making sure he knew how to phrase it. Then, he let his mouth speak his mind.  
  
*****   
  
"Why didn't you go with Dad on the trip?"   
  
The question hit hard in Chichi's guarded heart. She had asked herself this question many times, still unable to face the answers.   
  
But she just sighed. "You know I have lot's of work to do, Gohan," she tried ineffectively.   
"Yeah, I know but…" He looked to the floor for a moment, then said. "But couldn't you've taken a day off? I'm sure that Dad would've like you to go along."   
  
"No he wouldn't," She said quietly. The hint of depression was evident. Gohan pressed her with his eyes for more, waiting for her to give in under his gaze.   
  
"Oh Gohan, I'd just get in his way," she finally said, slumping down on the desk. "I don't know anything about adventures or Dragon Balls. He doesn't need me to slow him down."   
  
"But how will you ever find out unless you try?" he asked quietly.   
  
"I…I just…know it won't work out," Chichi tried her best to remain vague, for her sake as well as his. She didn't have the energy to go into it deep….didn't want to…no she didn't.   
  
"Mom…?"   
  
Stop the questions. I don't want to hear them. I don't have the patience…   
  
"But…?   
  
"No! No more questions!" she burst out. "Gohan, just please go to your room."   
  
"Mom?"  
  
"NOW!' The volume of her voice was surprising, as was Gohan's hurt expression. She made an effort to lower her voice, but it only came out horse and strained, her emotions still unmasked. "Please…"   
  
Gohan took one more look at his mother. Then, sadly, he went to his room, and closed the door.   
  
*****   
  
The broom calmly did its work, aided by Chichi's unwavering grasp. It gathered up the dust mites coating the tiled floor and deposited them in the pile that its master had set up. That is, it would've deposited them in the pile, if not for the fact that its master really had no interest in it.   
  
Chichi was not thinking about the pile, or the broom, or even the dust that had accumulated over the week. Due to this, her work was little more than pushing dirt around. But stubbornly, she persisted in her womanly duties, determined not to let her thoughts catch up to her.   
  
She clawed away at the dust clusters hiding in the corners, and wiped away the cobwebs under the cabinets. After a few more minutes, Chichi checked her progressed on the cleaning…only to discover she had succeed in destroying the pile she set up, and spreading the dirt all over the kitchen. With this realization, she let the broom clang to the floor. Leaving it there for now, she pulled up a chair and led out a sad, repressed sigh.   
  
She knew she really shouldn't have yelled at her son; heaven knows the sweet boy didn't deserve any of it. But the questions Gohan had asked were the very questions that she had asked herself daily, ever since Goku had left her. Now, her mental wall was broken once again, and she was left with sad reality once again.   
  
From the start, she had wanted nothing more than to settle down with Goku and have a nice traditional family. But it was clear that Goku needed something different. Sitting around and talking about the weather wasn't in his bag.   
For a long time she had run from this fact, clinging desperately to her loving family. Her son, who would grow up to be a famous scholar. Her husband who would always be there for her. But these sweet little fictions were becoming sour in the light of reality.   
  
And now, time was running out.   
  
For a while, she had been feeling that something was going to happen in their lives. Something big. She had ignored it, ignored it for a long time, thinking that if she did, it would be forgotten, just like the cobwebs that nobody could see. Because she was afraid. She didn't know if she could stop this storm.   
  
But she now knew she had to face it.   
  
With new resolutions made, Chichi took the hallway into Gohan's room. She cracked the door to find her son once again studying his geometry, like a good little boy who got punished by his parents. (The poor guy.) And her heart soared to him.   
  
"Oh Mom," he said, a little bit shaken by her arrival, obviously still taken aback back the earlier scene. "I've finished studying this section. Now I have to…"   
  
"Pack your bags," Chichi finished for him, still keeping the stern look on her face.   
  
"Mom?" At first Gohan's face spoke only confusion; then realization appeared on his face. "Do you mean…?"   
  
"Yes," she said, and this time, she allowed the hint of a smirk to appear on her features. "We're going to find your father."   
  
"Alright!" he cheered, throwing himself off of the bed. He reached underneath his bed for his bag: already packed, naturally. He maneuvered the shoulder straps into place, and grabbed a hat from the bedpost. "Then I'm ready to go!" he fixed the hat into place.   
  
She smiled. (That's my Gohan.) She thought to herself.   
  
*****   
  
The dust spread out behind them as the family car shot Chichi and Gohan down the road and away from the Son-House. It was an old Capsule Cruiser, seldom used, but kept in great condition. Therefore it handled very well, leaving Chichi peace of mind to concentrate on other things besides just driving.   
  
"You'll see, Mom!" Gohan said happily, letting the wind rustle his hair. "Everything's gonna work out. You'll see!"   
  
Chichi didn't share her son's optimism, but she nodded anyway. After all he was right, in a certain way. It was time to stop running away from her feelings, and Goku's. It was time to finally find the truth about each other. The cobwebs surrounding their hearts would finally be swept away.   
  
(I'm not sure what I'm going to find.) Chichi thought with a determined spark in her heart. (But I know this will be for the best.)   
  
*****   
  
Chichi and Gohan traveled down the country road on their new adventure. Making cheerful smalltalk along the way, mother and son coasted along, in heed of nothing. As it was, they were blissfully unaware of any distractions that would keep them from going onward. They were blissfully unaware of their watcher as well.   
  
For high in the sky, beyond the eyesight of the family, the afternoon sunrays rested on one figure. At first, he seemed to be nothing more than a smallish man in his mid thirties. This lie was dispelled by just another look. The man was floating, seemingly on thin air, without aid of any outside force. His raven black hair shot from his temple like a kerosene blaze, sticking out backwards in a fiery crest. But most telling about this man was his hard features, engrained on his face from years of scowling, sneering, and obsessive hatred.   
  
And once again, he was not pleased.   
  
"What is this?" he murmured to himself, uncrossing his arms for the moment. His eyes focused on the cruiser, still peddling down the road. It only took him a second make out the occupants. And this displeased him further.   
  
"Kakarrot's brat?" he said in confusion. "But why would he be out at now? Surely he would be filling his head with that ridiculous nonsense." Even to one such as him, Gohan's obsessive study habits were no secret. And any break in that obsessiveness was something to note and store away.   
  
His sensitive hearing swept through the space dividing the overseer and prey, snatching up tidbits of their banter…   
  
"… did you say they would be going?"   
"Kame House would be where they'd start out. After that, I'm not sure."   
"So how are we going to catch up to them?"   
"Don't worry. Bulma always leaves a spare Radar with Kame Sennin in case of emergencies."   
  
"What? Bulma? Radar?" His head was marked with lines of confusion. He tried to take these pieces and put them together, only there was no puzzle board to begin with. Unable to do anything with the shards of knowledge, he reverted to further eavesdropping.   
  
"…hope Dad's doing alright."   
"Yes…"   
"Is he gonna be surprised! And Bulma and the others too!"   
"Yes…"   
  
"What the hell?" His eyes widened with shock. "What is going on? Why is that women with Kakarott? What…"   
  
Like a meteor, the puzzle board fell from the sky, landing next to those few pieces he had acquired just then. They shook about a bit, sorting themselves as best they could, before arranging into a perfect picture any blind man could see.   
  
And then it all made sense.   
  
*****   
  
One week ago…   
  
The man walked out of the Gravity Training Room in a sweat. His spandex suit was charred and roasted, and his battle armor was frayed like party confetti, rendered completely useless for any sort of protection. In times like this, there was only one thing to do.   
  
"Woman!" he hollered out through the Capsule Corporation. "New suit, now!" This was met with silence.   
  
"Woman!" He screamed again, louder and clearer this time. "I need another battle suit! And I need it now!" More silence.   
  
"Damn it woman, I know you heard me!" The anger was clear in his voice. "Don't make me have to come over there!" When a third wave of silence echoed emptily in the air, he clenched his teeth and finally started the walk through the large complex.   
  
What insolence! To think a Saiyan Prince should beg like a pauper to those that are already bound to serve him. The indignities of this forsaken planet. These were the thoughts churning through his angry mind as he made his way down the stairs and into the study, where he hoped to have better luck with his commands.   
  
His mate, instead of immediately setting to work on his bidding was instead yakking away on that cursed telephone device, probably to some inane crony of hers. How dare she ignore me like this! Does she not know who she is dealing with? Just as he made up his mind to smash the receiver on the upper crust on Venus, her words reached his ears.   
  
"Really!" she shouted into the speaker. "That's a wonderful idea! Wow, after all this time!"   
  
The women was silence for a bit, pressingly listening to the unnamed others responses. "Well of course I'm coming!" she said a moment later. "I wouldn't miss this for the world!"   
  
"Yeah…uhuh…one o-clock…okay. Bye." She finally hung up the receiver, and when she finally noticed the man.   
  
"Oh, you," she said, a sarcastic tone dripping into her voice. "What does the all powerful Prince of Saiyans want now?"   
  
"Don't be flippant with me," he snarled at her "You will address me with proper respect, woman!"   
  
"Yeah, yeah?" The woman was completely unfazed by this threatening gesture. "What do you want, anyway?"   
"My suit's been damaged." He said brusquely, folding his arms. "Repair it now."   
  
"Can't," she stated simply. "I got plans to accomplish." With that, she got up off the chair, and headed for her room.   
  
"What?" He jerked up suddenly, unused to being blown off so flippantly. "Explain!" he said, blocking her path.   
  
Not looking like she really wanted to bother with an explanation, she sighed tiredly. "Me and the old gang are taking a trip to find the Dragon Balls. You know, sorta like a nostalgic look-back. And I'll be gone for a few weeks."   
  
"By 'old gang', I supposed you mean Kakarrot and his idiots!" he suddenly screamed out at the mention of his hated rival. "I will not allow it!"   
  
"What?" Now, the woman was starting to get mad herself. "So I can't hang out with the friends that I've known all my life? That's bullshit!"   
  
"It will be a cold day in Hell before I allow my mate to associate with my mortal enemy!" He said, folding his arms. "And that's the end!"   
  
The woman's eyes flashed with feminine fury, full of defiance for his will. And just as their flames were reaching a peak, they sizzled into a tiny spark at the center of her pupils.   
  
With an exaggerated sweep of the hand, she bowed to him. "Whatever pleases his majesty," she said grandly.   
  
"That's better," he assented, letting the sarcastic tone slide off his ego. He turned from. "Get started on my new suit. It must be ready by my third training session."   
  
His mate did not respond to this, but merely walked away to another room. (Well, best she gets busy on my suit as soon as possible. Every minute I slack is another minute for Kakarrot to surpass me.)   
  
With that, he headed once again into the Gravity Machine, ready to catch up on his missed training time. He didn't thing twice about his mate's comments, or the strange gleam in her eye.   
  
*****   
  
Until now.   
  
"That woman…that woman lied to me!" A heavy battle aura surged around the man, wrapping him in gold light. "How dare she deceive me to consort with that weakling! How dare she!" The anger within him was building higher and higher at the provocation of these thoughts, like the spreading of a rash you can't help but itch.   
  
"RRRAARGH!!!" he growled out, his aura growing to full blaze now. "I will teach her not to trifle with me! And I will show Kakarrot just whose mate he is dealing with!" He turned back to Gohan and Chichi, examining their path. And then, a smirk appeared on his face, the first sign go positive emotion in days. "And I know just how to find you too!"   
  
With that, Vegeta, Prince of all Saiyans, continued his silent vigil over the small family cruiser, following their path straight to his mate and Kakarott. He followed silently, attracting no attention to himself, although the two were too distracted to notice him anyway.   
  
As this continued, Vegeta's mood slowly brightened up. Yes, this would be a perfect opportunity for him. He'd show Kakarrot just how powerful he had become in such a short time. Then he nor his mate would be so disrespectful a second time. Upon this he actually laughed a bit, as a good fight was just the thing he had needed these past weeks.   
  
"Just you wait, Kakarrot." he snickered to himself. "You will see what a mistake you have made. Just you wait…"   
  
Authors Notes: Well, finally, we're starting to get somewhere! What situations will our Saiyan Prince and Ox Princess cause for the group? Tune in later to see!   
  
Until next time, Ja ne! ^_^   



	8. Chapter 6, Part 1

  
Dragon Ball: Makafushigi Adventure   
  
By Reid M. Haynes   
  
Disclaimer: Dragon Ball and all characters within are the property of Akira Toriyama, TOEI ANIMATION, and various other companies. I am using them without permission, and I am making no money off of them.   
  
Tale 6: Let's Try Try Try Makafushigi, Part 1   
  
*****   
  
"What on earth is this place?"   
  
"Some sort of chaotic ritual site, maybe?"   
  
"It's so crowded…"   
  
"We're going to get split up in here!"   
  
"Calm down! Just stick together, that's all."   
  
The dark cavity of the karaoke club was alive with a thousand annoyances, all competing for the attentions of its packed audience. Blaring neon light shone through the blackness, illuminating the mass of spectators. A dozen speakers resounded the favorite tunes of the crowd as they waited for the festivities to begin.   
  
"Wow, what a weird place!" Goku said to himself, easing his way through the crowd. He tried his best to be careful with his power: a simple slipup could send a bystander through the roof. So far he was having moderate success, although he was irritating some of the less patient people present.   
  
"Bulma, are you sure that the Dragon Ball is here?" Yamcha asked, following her through the crowd.   
  
"Positive," Bulma responded, her eyes trained on the Radar. "It's at least somewhere in this place."   
  
"Too loud," Oolong muttered, covering his ears.   
  
"Too bright," Puar squeaked, shielding his eyes.   
  
The game of Follow-the-Leader resumed its pace. Goku, Yamcha, Oolong, and Puar did their best to keep up with Bulma as she weaved through the crowd. Puar has no trouble with this at all, as he simply floated above the heads of the people. Oolong was getting along fine, despite occasionally bumping into a spectator or two. Goku and Yamcha were concentrating all their energies into controlling their power so they didn't accidentally kill anyone.   
  
"Hey, watch where you're going, you mindless oaf!" A harsh voice snapped out, and Goku stepped back from the man he had bumped into. Goku's eyes goggled. What a sight this guy was! He was decked out in purple Chinese robes, and had his hair pulled into a braid over his right shoulder. When he got a good look as his strange goggles covering his face, however, Goku's confusion changed to glee.   
  
"Tao Pai Pai!" he chimed, wrapping his nemesis in a bear hug. Well whadaya know!"   
  
"Ack!" he wheezed, the air crushed out of his lungs. "You're…choking me…!"   
  
"Whoops, sorry!" he amended, putting down the man just as the white spots began to appear.   
  
"Hmph!" The number one assassin dusted off his robes in disgust. "Of all the people to run into, I into the number one moron of the world."   
  
"Hey, so you do remember me!" Goku said, patting him on the shoulder. "That's great!"   
  
"How could I forget?" Tao Pai Pai muttered sarcastically, brushing Goku's hand off his clothes.   
  
"Hey Tao, whatcha doin' here anyway?" The other said, settling into a relaxed stance. "I thought you were workin' for that fat guy."   
  
The assassin flicked his braid behind his back in that odd gesture of his. "If you must know, I'm one of the contestants." he explained curtly. "Since you've destroyed every job I've had, this is he only way I can make ends meet."   
  
"Contestant?" Goku blinked. "You mean this is a contest?"   
  
"Idiot," Tao Pai Pai spat out, overwrought with irritation. "Don't you know anything?"   
  
"Huh?" Goku said, illuminating the fact that he, indeed, knew nothing.   
  
Tao Pai Pai sighed exasperatedly. "Every three years, this karaoke club has a competition known as the "Harmonious Under the Heavens" tournament. The winner makes off with a hefty cash prize, along with a special mystery prize."   
  
"Hmm," Goku put his hand to his chin. "So you really think you're gonna win, huh?"   
  
"Hah!" He laughed heartily. "I'll have you know that I've been the winner of this contest for three straight years." The assassin turned around, revealing the marquee on his backside. But instead of bearing you the usual "Kill You!" slogan, it instead stated: "Sing High!"   
  
"Goku, hurry up!" Bulma called out form the crowd, already way ahead of him.   
  
"Whoops, gotta go!" Goku said, heading toward her voice. He turned and waved. "See ya, Tao!" he said cheerfully.   
  
"Good riddance," Tao Pai Pai muttered, going about his business once more.   
  
Goku quickly caught up with the rest of the gang, managing to avoid bumping into any more people. "Was that Tao Pai Pai you were chatting with?" Bulma asked him.   
  
"Yup!" Goku answered happily. "The old guy hasn't changed a bit!   
  
"Knowing him that might not be such a good thing," Yamcha cautioned him.   
  
"Oh well," Goku shrugged carelessly. "I wonder how many more of our old friends are here?"   
  
"I'd just as soon not find out," Oolong whispered, keeping his eyes out for anymore of Goku's 'old friends.'   
  
*****   
  
The short blue imp examined his surrounding with satisfaction. "Finally, my conquest is under way!" he cackled, rubbing his palms greedily.   
  
"Yes, sir," His servant, a young woman with sunken eyes, peered thought the spyglass. "It's as good as ours."   
  
"But sire?" A strange dog creature crept up nervously to his master, despite the fact that he was bigger and taller. "Do you really think we can win?"   
  
"What do you think I've been training you for!" he suddenly burst out, jumping into the air again and again. "Now stop questioning my judgement, or I'll send you both back to the machine!"   
  
"Yes sir!" Both woman and dog grabbed on to each other, shivering with fear.   
  
"Hmph, that's more like it!" he said, turning away. Taking the spyglass from his servant, he peered through to gaze at the fabled treasure with tongue-dripping lust. He smiled deviously.   
  
"Soon, all of my dreams will come true." He said, his tone increasing emphasis with ever syllable. Then, I'll rule this world like it's never been ruled before! And every world after that! AHAHAHAHAH!" The imp proceeded with maniacal laughter, attracting odd stares from the surrounding people.   
  
The woman and dog looked at each other in confusion, wondering why on earth they worked for such a complete idiot.   
  
*****   
  
"What do you mean we can't have it?" Trunks argued, pointing at the object inferred. "We've spent this entire week looking for these things!"   
  
"I meant just what I said," The other, a blond man with sunglasses, responded curtly, trying to keep his temper in check. "That ball is part of our prize. You're lucky I don't have Bacterian kick you out right now." He pointed out Bacterian, a disgusting blob of grease that smelled like vapors from a tar pit. He was now smiling repulsively, drool rolling of his chin and onto his ample stomach.   
  
"But you don't know what you could get for it," Trunks bargained. "I'm telling you, we could pay very well for this little trinket. My mother works with Capsule Corp, and I'm sure she could…"   
  
"The answer is still no," The man interrupted impatiently. "Now, if you would please leave, we could get on with the contest before the crowd gets any more riled up!"   
  
"Hey Trunks, what's going on?" Trunks turned around to see the wall spin around, revealing the secret passage that he had stumbled into. When it was fully uncovered, Bulma and Goku crawled into the compartment, followed by Yamcha, Oolong, and Puar.   
  
"Great, more interruptions," The man slapped his head in exasperation. "I'm not paid well enough for this…"   
  
"What's up?" Goku asked, standing up fully within the small space. "Did you find the ball?"   
  
"Sorta," he explained slowly. "The ball's right over there." The group turned their heads to view the glory of Sanshinchu, Three Star Ball. Even now, it was glowing yellow, due to the proximity of its counterparts.   
  
"That's it!" Bulma cheered, pointing at it. "But what's the problem, then?" she said, sobering up.   
  
"This Ball's part of the prize that this contest is offering." Trunks said. "It's a singing competition, and the winner receives the ball as a mystery prize. In other words, it ain't ours. And we're not getting it."   
  
"Damn," Yamcha cursed, snapping his fingers. "What a drag."   
  
"Yeah, you know it." Trunks crossed his arms and looked away.   
  
Goku said nothing, but instead put his hand to his chin, kneading it thoughtfully. He contemplated the matter, his mind working to come up with a solution. And, due to the problem solving skills he learned in his many battles, he was able to conjure an idea fairly quickly.   
  
Then, his eyes lit up. "Hey, I know!" he burst out with newfound cheer. "Let's enter the contest! That way, if we win, it'll all be fair and square, right?"   
  
"Huh?" The group goggled, "Enter the contest?"   
  
"Well, it seems like the only fair way," Goku responded calmly. "And I don't have any other ideas at the moment."   
  
"Hmm…" Bulma adopted Goku's contemplative stance. ""Well, I guess it's our best shot at winning this thing. And, if we all enter, we'll have a better shot at winning…"   
  
"Okay, we'll do it," She turned to the blond man. "Where do we sign up?"   
  
"Nowhere." The man said coldly. "You're not signing up."   
  
"What?" Bulma hollered out, incensed. "You won't even let us compete for it?"  
  
"Absolutely not," He restated, folding his arms. "You all have an advantage over the rest of the competition by having seen the mystery prize. Not only is it extra incentive to win, it's also against every regulation we have. I'm sorry, but there is no way in good conscience I can let you participate."  
  
"When I'm done with you…" Dark clouds formed around Bulma's head, lightning erupting from their misty confines. "You'll have a lot more bruised than a CONSCIENCE!" She quickly grabbed him by the shirt, and wretched him off his little feet.   
  
"Help!" The man squealed, his voice cracking several octaves. "Abuse! Assault!" He turned his head to his bodyguard. "Bacterian, please help!" he demanded quickly, struggling to get in all the important words during the short time before his doom. "Bacterian!"   
  
But Bacterian was too busy scratching his rear to pay attention to him. So the pathetic little man was left in the hands of Bulma, which were in the process of stretching his collar to the point of choking him.   
  
"C'mon Bulma, let him go," Goku reasoned with her. "There's nothing we can do now."   
  
Bulma glared at him, as if ready to transfer her rage to a new target. Then, with a disappointed sigh, she let go, leaving the man to topple to the floor, gasping for air.   
  
Goku walked up to the man, and pulled him to his feet. "What a day…" the man muttered, straining his now-wrinkled collar. "Accosted at every step..."The man's brow suddenly furrowed. "Don't I know you from somewhere?" he asked him, examining his face closely.   
  
"Huh?" Goku mind drew a blank at fist, then he reached deep, and drew a recognition. "Hey, aren't you the guy from the Tenka-ichi Budokai? You know, the announcer?"   
  
"And you're that guy who beat Ma Junior!" The man's eyes widened underneath his shades. "You're…Son Goku! That's right, isn't it?"   
  
"That's me!" Goku smiled, putting his hand behind his head in slight embarrassment.   
  
"I thought so!" The announcer "Not every day you meet up with a champion. This is turning out to be a better day than I thought!"   
  
This strange reunion was interrupted by the presence of a shaggy haired teenager who looked like he hadn't shaved in days.   
  
"Hello, this is RisanF," The guy, or rather, I said. "I'll be referring to the announcer as the TBA, standing for "Tenka-ichi Budokai Announcer.' Because if I have to keep typing in "Tenka-ichi Budokai announcer," I'll go stiff from 'writers cramp.'"  
  
I scratched my head. "Well, I guess that's it, then' I said, preparing to go. "Until next time, Ja ne! ^_^" And, just as soon as he appeared, the weird little person was gone.   
  
"So, you're still not gonna let us in?" Bulma tried, having not noticed the author's stupid cameo appearance. "What with the champion himself showing his presence?"   
  
"Well…" The TBA considered it for a moment. "…alright then." He looked up. "Very well. Due to the contestant in question being a previous contender in the "Under the Heavens" series of competitions, I'll accept your group into this contest."   
  
"Yay!" Bulma and the others danced around in celebration.   
  
"However!" His sharp tone broke through their bliss, stopping them. "The prize still goes to the best. So you all had better be able to sing, or else." With that, the man exited the room, heading to the bathroom to clean up before the big event.   
  
"Look's like we're in!" Goku cheered, throwing out the V-Sign.   
  
"We may have a chance after all," Trunks smiled calmly.   
  
"Okay," Bulma stood before the group. "Which one of us can sing well?"   
  
Silence once again filled the room, the only sound being the relentless butt scratching by Bacterian.   
  
*****   
  
By this time, the crowd's impatience had increased two-fold. Their hollering echoed about the Kareoke Club, multiplying their excitement further. They raised their fists and chanted wildly, hungry for the upcoming action.   
  
Just as the rowdiness was about to escalate into a full out war, the Master of Ceremonies, the TBA, emerged from behind the curtain. Microphone in hand, he proceeded to the edge of the small platform, and the crowd fell silent, waiting for the announcement.   
  
"Sorry for the delay," he began, the mike's aid giving his voice a god-like quality. "But it was worth the wait. The 22nd 'Harmonious Under the Heavens' contest is about to begin!"   
  
A roar of applause filled the chamber, a brief echo of their previous chanting that ended as soon as it began. The TBA waited for the applause to fully die down before continuing.   
  
"This year, we have some promises new challengers hailing from East and West," he said, doing his best to charge up the crowd. "Let's hope they'll be able to compete with our long-time champion, Tao Pai Pai!"   
  
At the mention of the assassin's name, the crowd cheered, holding up their "Kill You!" signs in honor of their hero.   
  
"Now then, the rules," The TBA explained, filling in for any newbees attending. "As many of you know, this tournament is based on a succession of songs, each of which must be under five minutes. The singer may pick from of the songs in our extensive library. Like in past years, duets are allowed, as are threesomes and quartets. But any number of singers over four is not permitted, as they tend to outweigh the rest of the competitors.   
  
"The victor chosen is a direct result of the audience's approval. Each person with positive approval of a singer supplies one point to that singer's total score. A negative response will take one point away. Needless to say, if the singer leaves the stage before his or her time is up, that singer is automatically disqualified."   
  
"At the end, all of the scores are evaluated. And at the end, the singer or singers with the most total points will win the game."   
  
"Now…" The TBA let the words trail off, getting the crowd ready for the finale.   
  
"Let the matches BEGIN!!!"   
  
*****   
  
Author's Notes: Like Chapter 4, this part will be divided into two sections. Part 2 will be coming momentarily.   
  
Until next time, Ja ne! ^_^   
  



	9. Chapter 6, Part 2

  
Dragon Ball: Makafushigi Adventure   
  
By Reid M. Haynes   
  
Disclaimer: Dragon Ball and all characters within are the property of Akira Toriyama, TOEI ANIMATION, and various other companies. I am using them without permission, and I am making no money off of them. BR  
  
Legend:   
( ) Denotes thoughts.   
  
Tale 6: Let's Try Try Try Makafushigi, Part 2   
  
*****   
  
Yamcha stepped onto the stage calmly. He sized up the crowd. There were easily over a hundred persons crammed into the medium sized building, all glaring up at him with glassy, fish-eye stares. Not to mention he was flashed with enough lighting to make any lesser man flinch in nervous terror.   
  
But he was confident. No little crowd and twinkly lights were gonna scare him away. Especially when he was prepared with the most awesome song in the entire known universe. Yes, with this song, and his voice, he could easily make the top-ten list right here!   
  
"Ladies and Gentlemen" The TBA announced to the crowd. "Straight out of the Diablo Desert, it's Yamcha, the Desert Bandit!" The crowd cheered cautious, not knowing what they were in store for.   
  
"Like some of our other challengers, Yamcha is a new face in karaoke competition." he continued passionately. "So let's see if this Bandit's a prince in disguise!" Finished with the announcement, the TBA flicked on the karaoke machine, then quickly stepped out of view. "Song #1, BEGIN!"   
  
The opening guitar licks sounded, and the beat slowly defined itself. Putting the mike to his mouth, Yamcha smiled eagerly, ready to blow them away. And then, with the crowd cheering him on, he began to wail his song…   
  
Yamcha:   
"Dragon Ball Z! YEAH!   
Dragon Dragon! Rock the Dragon!   
Dragon Ball Z!   
Dragon Dragon! Rock the Dragon!   
Come-get-ME!"   
  
During the loud, overly obnoxious guitar solo that FUNimation thought would be just a swell idea, Yamcha began to play air-guitar. Grinning overbearingly, he jammed on his imaginary instrument, jumping up and down with all the enthusiasm of Axel and Slash. He kicked down imaginary speakers, and yanked continuously on an imaginary wammy bar in a crazy, testosterone induced hilarity.   
  
Yes, he was indeed awesome. No one could even think about competing with his greatness. Through some remote part of his brain still connected with the outside world, Yamcha heard the solo wrapping up. So, unheeding to the crowd's stunned reaction, Yamcha took another breath, and burst into the next lyrics.   
  
Yamcha:   
"Dragon Ball Z! YEAH!   
Dragon Dragon! Rock the Dragon!   
Dragon Ball Z!   
Dragon Dragon! Rock the Dragon!   
Come…a-come-get-ME!"   
  
As the guitar solo commenced once more, Yamcha took a glance at the crowd. And, sure enough, the crowd was indeed blown away. BR  
  
Unfortunately for Yamcha, the crowd was blown away by how utterly horrible the song really was. The booing had already began to take over the majority of the crowd, and some of the more courageous ones were palming large, saturated fruit, calculating trajectory angles.   
  
And, just as Yamcha was whipping out the air-guitar, the first one made contact, impacting straight onto Yamcha's jaw. "Enough!" the thrower protested "We don't want to hear anymore!"   
  
"Yeah!" another said, shaking his fist. "Go back to the desert, you tone-deaf jerk!"   
  
"Yeah!" a third joined in.   
  
"Get lost," and another…   
  
"You suck!" and another.   
  
"Loser!"   
  
"Dope!"   
  
"Ass!"   
  
"Let's get him!"   
  
"H-hey!" Yamcha stammered, throwing his hands in front of his face. "What's the big idaAAOOOWWW!!!" A gourd cut off his phrase, splattering gunk all over his head. "Can't you just…hey OWW!!!"   
  
"No more talk!" A woman screamed, climbing onto the platform. "Kill now!"   
  
And, as the rest of the song finished up unattested, Yamcha was run off stage, permanently.   
  
Kareoke Machine:   
"Dragon Ball Z. YEAH!   
Dragon Ball Z. YEAH!"   
  
*****   
  
After Yamcha's utter humiliation, Oolong and Puar hopped onto the platform, Puar with an expression of sadness at watching his master get humiliated, and Oolong with an expression of glee at watching the idiot get humiliated. But both of them were ready for the trial ahead.   
  
"Ladies and Gentlemen!" The TBA announced, while wiping of the stray tomato blots that had landed on him during the earlier fiasco. "From the Western Shape Shifting Academy, it's Oolong and Puar!"   
  
The crowd did nothing this time but gape at the strange little creatures. Both of them only came up to the average spectator's thigh, and they both looked very, very weird. But they refrained from booing. After all, no one could be as bad as that other guy, Yamchuck or whatever his name was.   
  
"And now, without further ado, they will be performing their version of Kageyama-sama's number one hit, 'We Gotta Power!'"   
  
The crowd suddenly applauded, and Oolong raised an eyebrow. Apparently, "We Gotta Power" was still very popular with the masses. But, although they had chosen a good song to sing, it would also be that much harder to live up to.   
  
Once again, the TBA has quickly slipped off stage to activate the karaoke machine. "Song #2…" he started slowly, preparing for a slick finish. "…BEGIN!!!"   
  
The soft opening strings played, accompanied by a light brass hit, contrast to the hard-core wailing about to ensue.   
  
"Hope we do alright," Puar said to Oolong, keeping his voice low.   
  
"Relax," Oolong muttered quietly. Then a sneer twisted onto his face. "At least we'll be better than that loser before us." he cackled. BR  
  
"Hey, watch what you say about Lord Yamcha!" Puar threatened, shaking his "fist" warningly. But all further argument was cut off as the lyrical section approached. So Oolong and Puar took a deep breath and, just as the measure ended, Oolong started off with all the courage he could muster.   
  
Oolong:   
"Hachamechaga oshiyoseteiru  
Naiteru baai janai  
wakuwakuo ippykubain ishite  
Pa-tei-no shuyakuninarou."   
  
Puar:   
"Muchu-ninaneru monoga  
itsukakimio sugeyatsunisurunda"   
  
Oolong/Puar:   
"NO-TEN P-KAN sorawa harete  
IPPAI OPPAI bokugenki  
toraburuto asobe yancha bo-i  
WE GOTTA POWER! Doragonba-ru zetto!"   
  
The guitars screamed, and the strings blared as the next measure prepared itself for Oolong and Puar. So far, everything was going decently well, in that no one has thrown anything at them yet. A definite plus. And a definite reason for a confidence boost, which allowed Puar to ease into the next lyrics with smooth transition. BR  
  
Puar:   
"Bikurino katamari okeri  
Miraihe go-ru sasero  
Hecharano hanaosa kasete  
Minnao warawa sechae."   
  
At this point, a clear reaction was present within the crowd. Their eyes were widened with interest, and several had inched closer to the stage. A couple of them were even making yelps of approval. Oolong was energized by the public support, and therefore went into his next lines with renewed gusto.   
  
Oolong:   
"Itazurazukina kiniga  
Yumeokisou raibaruninarunosa"   
  
Were they actually cheering now? Yes, there was indeed a large, positive reaction from the crowd. Huge grins were pasted onto their faces, and they were reeling with excitement. Strange, it almost sounded like…   
  
Crowd:   
"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"   
  
…laughter. They were laughing at them. Laughing at them, their silly little bodies, and their yippie little voices trying to sound all big and dramatic. Apparently, the whole thing had been some sort of tremendous joke to them, and they wasted no time in hooting and pointing at the embarrassed shapeshifters.   
  
Puar looked like he was on the verge of tears. His eyes were watering up, and his lip quivered involuntarily. But, instead of letting loose with sobs, he let loose on Oolong. "See!" Puar snapped, pointing his finger in blame. "I knew we should've changed into Sting!"   
  
"Ah, shaddap!" Oolong muttered, gripping his head in the contortions of a massive headache.   
  
Both of them proceeded off the platform in utter shame, with the evil, mocking crowd voicing their jeers around them. BR  
  
*****   
  
Trunks slowly walked onto the stage, his breath suspended tight in his throat. He took the steps one at a time, trying to delay his arrival as much as he possibly could. Then, he increased the time he took for step climbing to about two seconds per step. Unfortunately all these precautions did not stop him from eventually reaching the platform, so he was forced to stand up there anyway…in front of everyone.   
  
His eyes shifted back and forth, scanning the crowd for reactions. Most stared on with black expressions, completely neutral to the young man. Others looked slightly relieved, glad that another pair of stuffed animals hadn't been called up. A couple of giggly teenage girls swooned over his wiry build, chatting loudly about the potential sexiness of his voice. However, all of them had one thing in common, one thing that they were all doing, regardless of whether they realized it or not.   
  
They were staring at him.   
  
Yes, that's what they were doing. They're staring, staring and analyzing, just waiting for him to make one mistake, one little mistake that would give them the excuse to start the laughing, or booing, or whatever the torture for today was.   
  
All of them, staring at him. Burning gazes tearing through his skin like hot flames on candle wax. Burning, searing, burn…   
  
"Ladies and Gentlemen!" The TBA had chosen this moment to introduce the reluctant performer. "From the Western Capital, it's Trunks Briefs!   
  
The crowd let out a huge cheer, and the teenage girls yelped their approval of the contestant with blown kisses. Trunks did his best to smile and wave, but it had only the sincerity of a high-school yearbook photo. But the girls were impressed anyway, thinking, of course, that he was looking at them.   
  
Trunks really wasn't looking at anything now. He only felt the blaze of stares, crushing his skull like some sort of psychic vice. The pressure persisted, and he struggled to recall the words of his song, which were already being squeezed out his brain.   
  
The TBA was saying something else now, causing the crowd to cheer out. Okay, cheering is good, I guess. Then he was going to a machine, and flicking a switch. Then, he was screaming something else, something that sounded like…like…   
  
"Song #3…BEGIN!!!"   
  
(No, not yet!) he wanted to scream. But Trunks only had a small moment to breath in before his cue came. And he was left to wing it out, alone.   
  
Trunks:   
"Dan dan kokoro kihareteku,   
Dan dan…uh…dan dan…uuuhhh…"(thump)   
  
Falling flat onto his face, Trunks was let into the world of silent, blissful sleep.   
  
*****   
  
Within the confines of the audience, set up at a round table over to the side, the Dragon Ball gang discussed the outcomes of their short-lived singing careers.   
  
"Man, you all really suck!" Bulma spat, disgusted at the shoddy performances. "I bet Kame Sennin could sing better than you."   
  
"Oh shut up, Bulma!" Oolong growled, stirring his drink angrily. "At least we stayed on stage the entire time. Unlike a certain other contestant I know."   
  
"Oro…" Trunks groaned, a large bathtowel draped over his forehead. Bulma, saying nothing, replaced the cloth with a fresh one, making sure it was damp enough.   
  
"They were so mean, Yamcha!" Puar cried out, once again clutching to Yamcha's vest. "I tried my very best to sing, and they laughed at me! WaaAAAHHH!!!!" A waterfall of tears burst from the cat's eyes, saturating his face, the table, and a great deal of the audience in salty water.   
  
"Yes yes, I know," Yamcha half-patronized, patting his friend on the back. "We'll show them. Let's see how funny they think they are when they have a Souki-dan crammed up their ass…!" Yamcha was almost snarling at the end of his sentence, remembering the crowd's lack of respect for good music.   
  
"And to think, Tao Pai Pai still hasn't gone yet," Goku said to himself, scratching his head. "I wonder what he's gonna sing?" No one answered Goku's question, though, for the TBA was already heading up to give his next announcement.   
  
"Ladies and Gentlemen," The TBA said, more somberly than usual. "I have…some bad news. Due to a sudden case of strep throat, out returning champion Tao Pai Pai is unable to defend his title."   
  
A large roar of disbelief fell though the crowd, horrified at very idea of their favorite not performing. Some of the more enraged persons snapped their "Kill You!" signs on their knees in frustration, while others yelled death threats at the TBA, who was beginning to sweat heavily.   
  
But not all is lost!" The TBA bellowed, cutting off the crowd before they could make good on their threats. "For I have already recruited a replacement: three talented singers from the far west. And, if they sing as good as they talk, we're in for as much of a treat as if the Number One Assassin was here himself!"   
  
The fickle crowd cheered once again, easily manipulated by the sly announcer's wiles. With a smile once again on his face, the TBA continued on. "We'll be taking a short ten minute intermission, so hang on for the rest of our performers." He left for the back room, probably to splash his face with some cold water, along with taking about three bottles worth of anti-stress pills.   
  
"Gee, how about that?" Goku said, turning to the others. "Wonder who these news guys are."   
  
"Wonder no more!" A mysterious voice spoke from the crowd. All of the group, save the comatose Trunks, whirled to the sound...and came face to face with Pilaf, Mai, and Shu, all of them smiling with cocky glee.   
  
"You?" Bulma said, shocked.   
  
"That's right, you wusses!" The wannabe Emperor bubbled with glee, clenching his fists in enthusiasm. "And now you'll finally see who the real Dragon Ball hunters are!"   
  
"Our master has been hard at work." Shu spoke out with a confidence normally unknown to him. "He's been getting us ready for this very moment."   
  
"As soon as we're on this stage, we'll blow the crowd away," Mai calmly stated matter-of-fact like. "Then, the ball is ours!"   
  
"But how did you know that the mystery prize was a Dragon Ball?" Goku asked them.   
  
"We've been spying on this place for the past two-hours," Mai said. "As soon as we heard that the D-Ball was the prize, we signed up right away."   
  
"We've even managed to spike Tao Pai Pai's punch," Shu blurted. "You know…to even the odds a bit."   
  
"Quiet fool!" Pilaf hollered at him. "Do you want to destroy everything we've worked for." He strangled the dog-ninja by his scruffy neck, causing the other to gag.   
  
"So it was you guys!" Bulma pointed at the culprits. "You lousy cheaters! I have half a mind to turn you guys in!"   
  
"All's fair in love, war, and Dragon Balls hunts," Mai said, folding her arms philosophically.   
  
"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard," Bulma snarled, glaring at her. Mai took offence to this remark and glared at the blue-haired one, who glared right back.   
  
"But what song are you going to sing?" Goku asked, not affected in the slightest by the raging females.   
  
"Heh heh!" Pilaf chucked, turning away in a expression of arrogance. "You'll see…" Mai and Shu followed their master's example, and turned away from the Dragon Ball gang.   
  
"Well how about that?" Goku smiled cheerfully, uncaring about the Pilaf Crew's treachery. "Wonder what they're gonna do?"   
  
The rest of the group gave him a cold look, then stared back at the stage.   
  
By now, the ten-minute intermission was over, and the TBA was returning back to the stage. He climbed up on the stage, amidst the renewed cheered, and grabbed the microphone from the bandstand.   
  
"Ladies and Gentleman, we're back!" The TBA yelled, putting on his best TV face. "And we're ready for the next act. Replacing the absent Tao Pai Pai, from the depths of the West, it's Emperor Pilaf, with his associates Mai and Shu! Guys, come on stage!"   
  
"That our cue," Pilaf smirked, motioning to himself with his thumb. "Watch and learn, chumps!" Pilaf, Mai, and Shu then headed up to the stage, while the others looked on, curious about what the sneaky group had up their sleeves.   
  
*****   
  
Up on stage, the Pilaf Crew was preparing for their song, each member getting ready in his or her own way. Pilaf was rubbing his hands with greed for his soon-to-be-acquired Dragon Ball. Shu was wiping his sweaty brow, gripping his sword like a security blanket. Mai simply folded her hands over her front, unblinking. But all of them were very ready for their performance, more than anyone would ever know.   
  
"Okay!" The TBA said. "The Pilaf Band has asked me not to mention the name of their song. However, they did say that this would be the best song performed yet!" The crowd cautionary applauded, not wanting to give their full approval. After all, this group was as hodge-podge as they came, perhaps even beating out those Oolong and Puar freaks.   
  
The TBA assumed his position at the kareoke machine. "Song #4…BEGIN!!!" he flicked it on, then darted off stage  
  
The Pilaf crew whipped out three microphones from the stand, smoothly putting them to their mouths. They eyed each other quickly, and smiled confidently. After this little ditty, the others better quit right now. 'Cause no one was gonna be able to top this.   
  
The beats of the drum started off the song quickly. And, a half-second later, the song began.   
  
All: "DRAGON BALL!!!"   
Pilaf: "Gotta find that-"   
All: "DRAGONBALL!!!"   
Pilaf: "Don't stop until you've got 'em all. The seven magic balls."   
"It's all you gotta do to have your-"   
All: "Wish come truuueee!"   
All: "Get that DRAGONBALL!!! DRAGONBALL!!!"   
"The greatest task of all is to find that seventh baaalll…!"   
  
All: "Danger all around you!"   
Pilaf: "Villains everywhere!"   
All: "Evil lives around you!"   
Pilaf: "Keep on searchin'…but bewareee!"   
  
Mai/Shu: Goku! He's gonna show you!"   
Pilaf: "He's gonna help you find the waayyy!"  
Mai/Shu: "Goku! He's gonna show you!"   
Pilaf: "He and his FRIENDS are GONNA save the DAAAYYY!!!"   
  
All: "DRAGON BALL!!!"   
Pilaf: "There's always evil lurkin' 'till the-"   
All: "DRAGON CALLS!!!"   
Pilaf: "You won't believe the magic in those-"   
All: "SEVEN BALLS!!!"   
Pilaf: "Everybody's searchin' for the-"   
All: "DRAGON BALL!!!"   
  
*****   
  
Every member of the Dragon Ball Gang was struggling to handle this strange turn of events. Goku just stared straight ahead in shock, as did Bulma and Puar. Yamcha's mouth hung open as he gaped like a fish. Oolong's mouth was quivering, his snout taking in large snorts of oxygen. Trunks…well…he was just regaining consciousness, so he didn't have much to say.   
  
But there was really only one thing to say.   
  
"They're good," Bulma said, here eyes wide open. "They're actually good."   
  
The crowd was roaring, shouting out chants of "PILAF, MAI AND SHU! PILAF, MAI AND SHU!" The Pilaf Crew, local celebrities now, were in the process of signing autographs to their adoring fans. Even the giggly teenage girls were impressed, pestering both Pilaf and Shu for dates, much to the annoyance of Mai.   
  
To put it short, Pilaf, Mai, and Shu had just sung the most preachy, annoying song in the history of music.   
And the crowd loved it.   
  
"Beat that, fledglings!" Pilaf, Mai, and Shu all laughed at the stoned expressions on the groups face as they retreated back to their own table, supremely confident in their performance.   
  
"Well, that's it then," Oolong put his fist to his cheek, slumping onto the table. "We lose, we suck."   
  
"That one performance beat out everyone," Puar squeaked, hanging on top of Yamcha's head. "They've got almost the entire crowd on their side!"   
  
"I say the crowd was rigged," Yamcha clenched his fist and growled. "I mean, how could anyone not like 'Rock the Dragon?'"   
  
"Yeah, considering they liked that song," Oolong agreed, joining Yamcha in fist clenching and growling.   
  
"But now, we don't have anyone to stand up to them," Puar moped sadly. Yamcha and Oolong nodded solemnly, and for a minute, all was quiet between them, a general acceptance of defeat evident around their area.   
  
"Wait a minute!" Bulma jumped up out of her seat, gripping onto the table determinedly. "I still haven't sung yet."   
  
"Huh?" Yamcha eyed her lazily, not impressed. "Don't tell me you're going to wow the crowd."   
  
"Well, we're running out of options!" she persisted. "Face it, I'm all you've got."   
  
"And you really think you can do it, all by yourself?" Oolong muttered sarcastically.   
  
"Not alone…" she trailed off. Then she grabbed Goku's hand, and hoisted him up. "Goku's coming with me!"   
  
"Huh?" Goku's eyes just got a bit wider, if that was possible. He stared in confusion at her. "Why me, Bulma?" he asked.   
  
"Because, you and I are the only ones who haven't sung yet!" Bulma yelled out. "C'mon, let's go." And she dragged her wrangled partner down to the stage, with him whining and complaining all the while.   
  
Once again, the others were staring blankly. Gee, this kind of thing is a running gag in this story, ne?   
  
"This won't end well," Yamcha sighed.   
  
*****   
  
The crowd was ready once again for a performance. After Pilaf's little number, they were raring for another show stopping performance. Considering that many of the performers had quit, anyone with the guts to compete against that must have a really good song in their arsenal. They had damn well better.   
  
Bulma hauled Goku through the crowd, pushing people aside. She had already signed up both her and Goku on the list, and they would be performing in just a few short moments. That is, if her partner would stop complaining…   
  
"But Bulllma!" he whined, trying to go in the other direction. "I don't wanna sing! Let's just forget this, 'kay?"   
  
"Don't be such a wuss!" she snapped, motioning a man out of their way. "If you can survive a fight to the death on an exploding planet, you can last four minutes of a stupid song!"   
  
"But I don't know any songs!" he persisted, contemplating on how to slip out of her grasp. Maybe if he used Instant Transmission, he could get out of this mess. Nah, she'd just end up getting transported too. Damn.   
  
"You'll know this one," she said, edging through two people "I used to play it on the radio all the time when we're on the hunt."   
  
When she leaned up and whispered the title to it, his frown turned into a grin.   
  
"Oh…that one," he said, his memories spurred. "Yeah, I guess I can do that."   
  
"I thought you'd agree," Bulma smiled, continuing to pull him along. Goku's fading reluctance made it infinitely easier, and so she guided him onto the stage, and there they waited for their number.   
  
Goku's heart was pounding rapidly. He'd never done anything like this before. And he'd done a lot of strange things. But singing? In front of a bunch of people? That was beyond him.   
  
But oh well, too late to do anything about it now. He'd never let a new challenge overwhelm him anyway. Who knows, it might be fun!   
  
Bulma, despite her confident shell, was also feeling the weight of nervousness. She fully expected a lot of strange things to happen on this Dragon Ball hunt. Singing a duet with Goku, however, was not one of them.   
  
But it didn't matter anymore. This was their last chance to claim the Dragon Ball for themselves. And, though she'd never admit it, she felt a lot more confident with Goku up there with her, if only for someone to take the fall with her.   
  
"Ladies and Gentlemen, we have two new challengers!" The TBA announced to the jubilant crowd. "From the East and West, it's Son Goku and Bulma Briefs!" The crowd cheered at them. Yamcha, Oolong, and Puar raised their cheers highest of all, while Pilaf, Mai, and Shu booed, giving them both the finger.   
  
"Goku and Bulma have a special treat for us," the announcer continued. "Together, they will be doing a song not performed seven years. And now, here's their rendition of Takahashi Hiroki's underground hit, 'Makafushigi Adventure!'   
  
This got a big reaction out of the crowd, and their cheering increased, except for the Pilaf Crew, who resorted to using two hands to flick them off.   
  
Goku and Bulma flinched at this massive reaction, intimidated a bit by the raucous attitudes of their viewers. They turned to each other, gauging each other's reactions, hoping the other had more confidence. Upon finding themselves mutually nervous, they turned back towards the audience. Unconsciously, their hands had clasped together, drawing in as much support as ten fingers could relay.   
  
The TBA had drawn back to his machine, ready to switch it on. "Song #5…" he started slowly, as always. "…BEGIN!!!"   
  
He flicked the switch.   
  
The opening synths bumped Goku and Bulma back to reality. Bulma looked down, and finally noticed her hand closed around his. She looked back up at Goku in confusion, but he just smiled reassuringly. So their hands remained tied together, and they remained ready for the song to fully begin.   
  
The lyrical section was approaching fast, leaving them no more time. So, when it finally reached them, Goku took his mike, and began to sing.   
  
Goku:  
"Tsukamou ze! DRAGON BALL   
Sekai de ittou suriru na himitsu   
Sagasou ze! DRAGON BALL   
Sekai de ittou yukai na kiseki   
Kono yo wa dekkai takarajima   
Sou sa Ima koso adobenchaa!"  
  
Bulma took a brief look at Goku's face. His mouth was wide open, heavily annunciating every syllable like kais from a kata, as if the whole thing was some sort of martial arts training.   
  
She giggled. Goku was terrible! His high-pitched voice strained through the mike's speaker, echoing the song all over the place. But he was also really trying hard to do his very best. So why shouldn't she try just as hard?   
  
So, as Goku's part was coming to a close, she joined in.   
  
Bulma:  
"Mune waku-waku no ai ga GISSIRI   
Iro tori-dori no yume ga DOSSARI   
Kono no yo doko ka de hikatte 'ru   
Soitsu mitsuke ni yukou ze BOY   
Youkai henka mo buttobashi   
Kumo no mashin de kyou mo tobu no sa!"   
  
Goku glanced at Bulma, and smiled warmly. She was putting her whole heart into this song. Of course, her voice was infinitely better than his, but who cared about that anyway. This was fun! He hadn't had this much of a good time in a long while.   
  
Psyched up, he met with Bulma's eyes as she stretched out the last word. Her eyes were filled with smiles as well, clearly enjoying the moment. And, when her part was done, their voices joined together into their song.   
  
Goku/Bulma:   
"Let's try try try Makafushigi   
Sora wo kakenuke yama wo koe   
Let's fly fly fly Daibouken   
Fushigi na tabi hajimaru ze!   
  
With hands and eyes locked, Goku and Bulma sung their souls into their mikes; primitive outlets for the heart going into it. Their voices synchronized perfectly with each other, even though both met 'soprano' on the musical scale.   
  
By now, both had completely forgotten about the contest, or the Dragon Balls, or anything else. All they heard was the beats of the drum, the blare of the brass, and the sound of the other's voice. They just didn't care anymore. All other thoughts had been driven out by the song's chants of adventure, mystery, and companionship.   
  
And that's all they needed.   
  
Goku/Bulma:   
"Te ni irero! DRAGON BALL   
Sekai de ittou degowai chansu   
Oikakero! DRAGON BALL   
Sekai de ittou ikashita dorama   
Kono yo wa dekkai takarajima   
Sou sa Ima koso adobenchaa!"   
  
A lengthy musical interlude interceded between them, and gave Goku and Bulma a small time to catch their breaths. Both of them had excited looks on their faces, the energy between them sparking with fury.   
  
Goku leaned in close. "Gee, you were right, Bulma!" he whispered quickly, favoring her with a wink. "This is a blast!"   
  
"Let's keep going, then," she responded, winking back. Goku smiled and nodded.   
  
They turned back to the crowd. The interlude was wrapping up, and the series of brass hits initiated the cue to start up again. Goku and Bulma met this head on, and burst back into the song as if they had never left.   
  
Bulma:   
"Karada ippai yuuki VISSIRI   
Hitomi ippai egao NICCORI   
Gokuu wa MUJAKI na chousen-sha!"   
  
Goku:   
"Da kedo pawaa hanpa ja nai ze   
Janken-panchi ni KamehameHa   
Donna teki demo kanai wa shinai!"   
  
Goku/Bulma:   
"Let's fly fly fly Makafushigi   
Niji no burijji kugurinuke   
Let's try try try Daibouken   
Fushigi na yume wo mi ni yukou!"   
  
Goku/Bulma:   
"Tsukamou ze! DRAGON BALL   
Sekai de ittou suriru na himitsu   
Sagasou ze! DRAGON BALL   
Sekai de ittou yukai na kiseki   
Kono yo wa dekkai takarajima   
Sou sa Ima koso adobenchaa!   
  
Tsukamou ze! DRAGON BALL   
Sekai de ittou suriru na himitsu   
Sagasou ze! DRAGON BALL   
Sekai de ittou yukai na kiseki   
Kono yo wa dekkai takarajima   
Sou sa Ima koso adobenchaa!"   
  
With a final beat on computerized drums, the synthesized brass uttered its last words, bringing the song to a close. For a very brief moment, all was silent in the karaoke bar. Then, the entire room was screaming with applause. They waved their hands in the air, hooting and chanting for the duo.   
  
Both Goku and Bulma goggled at this reaction. During their number, they were so caught up with the music that they neglected to scan the audience's reaction to it. But, upon realizing that it was all positive, they raised their linked hands above their heads, prompting another wave of applause. Their mouths were upturned in huge grins as the crowd kept cheering for them.   
  
Goku and Bulma's eyes met for just a brief moment. They twinkled with an excitement and glee that only they knew of. Then, they faced the applause once more, which just kept coming, and coming, and coming…   
  
*****   
  
The recently recovered Trunks stared at the two winners on the stage. He still felt a little woozy from his fall, and it didn't help that the giggly teenage girls had seen it fit to "check for injuries"' Luckily, he managed to convince them he was a quick healer, so they let him go, grumbling all the way.   
  
Trunks had come to right before "Makafushigi Adventure." He had missed the Pilaf Crew's performance, so Yamcha had to fill him in. He wasn't very familiar with "Get that Dragon Ball," but due to the amount of support it got, it must be an insanely good song.   
  
Whatever it was, it was nothing compared to the song that his mother and Goku performed. Together, they had brought the entire crowd onto their side. Even the TBA was energized, bouncing back and forth, stopping when people were staring at him.   
  
They had won. The Dragon Ball was theirs.   
  
"Hey Trunks, care 'fer a victory drink?" Yamcha shakily held up a small glass of sake, obviously drunk. "All of us 're doin' it." He waved a lazy hand to his left, where Oolong and Puar were dancing on the table, pouring sake all over themselves in some sort of idiotic ritual.   
  
"I'll pass," Trunks politely dismissed him, leaving the others to their drunken games. Instead, he turned back to the stage, where Goku and Bulma were singing, just for fun this time.   
  
It was better anyway that he didn't have a bunch of alcohol in his system. Right now, he had to have as clear a head as he could.   
  
Because he had some serious thinking to do.   
  
His memories scanned back to the time of their song. True, Bulma and Goku's voices were harmonizing perfectly, even though it was probably not intentional. True, they had chosen a very popular song to sing, even though that wasn't intentional, either.   
  
But it wasn't their singing, or even the song that had won the crowd over. It was their unity, the supreme togetherness they shared, that touched the audience. The song wasn't hitting their eardrums, it was hitting their hearts, even though many didn't even know it. They didn't see the spark of companionship pass through their fingertips. They didn't see the twinkle in their eyes meant for only each other. They didn't see it; perhaps Bulma and Goku themselves didn't see it  
  
But Trunks saw.   
  
Ever since the trip had begun, he had analyzed Bulma and Goku's behavior around each other. Sure, at first it seemed perfect normal the way they acted. Then, as time went on, and he was better able to read into their words, his suspicions started growing rapidly. But it wasn't until tonight that he was positive.   
  
(Yes.) he thought. (It's just as I feared.)   
  
He turned back to the stage, watching them sing. Their untrained voices warbled through the remainder of the song, laughing as they flubbed their lines time and time again.   
  
(I knew it.) Trunks put his index to his lips in hard concentration. (Damn it, I knew this was gonna happen.) He had hoped it wouldn't be this way, that he'd been mistaken somehow. But there was no denying it now. It was all pretty clear. And now, they all would have to deal with it.   
  
He sighed. "This will make things more difficult," he whispered silently to himself.   
  
  
  
Authors Notes: Gee, this chapter sure had a bunch of cameos in it.Anyway, about my little intrusion into my own story. Yes, I know I could've just used the Copy and Paste option for the guy's name. But, frankly, I just felt like running in and saying something stupid. Let me have my fun, alright?   
  
I'm going to cut down on the Authors Notes for a while. The story is now developed enough for it to stand on it's own, and my relentless chattering will eventually end up spoiling the mood. By now, you're probably sensing what direction this story is going in. All I have to say about this is: hey, I told you it was gonna be different!   
  
Additional Disclaimer(s): Ho boy, this is gonna take a while…   
  
"Makafushigi Adventure" belongs to Takahashi Hiroki, and to all other artists who contributed to this song.   
"We Gotta Power" belongs to Kageyama Hironobu, and to all other contributors.   
"Dan Dan" belongs to Zard, and to all other contributors.   
"Rock the Dragon" and "Get that Dragon Ball" belong to our good friends at FUNimation, and to all others that dared to contribute to this songs. (Apologies to any 'Rock the Dragon' fans I might have offended. Cause, to tell you the truth, I kinda like these songs. -_-;   
"Oro" was stolen directly from Rurouni Kenshin, because I like the sound of "Oro."   
  
Until next time, Ja ne! ^_^   



	10. Chapter 7

  
Dragon Ball: Makafushigi Adventure   
  
By Reid M. Haynes   
  
Disclaimer: Dragon Ball and all characters within are the property of Akira Toriyama, TOEI ANIMATION, and various other companies. I am using them without permission, and I am making no money off of them.   
  
Legend:   
( ) Denotes thoughts.   
  
Tale 7: We Were Angels   
  
*****   
  
"Oide Fantasy,"   
  
"Sukina Mystery,"   
  
"Will you please shut up now?" Oolong muttered as he steered the car down the rocky road. "You been singing for the past hour! Let it go!"   
  
Goku and Bulma looked at the pig, then at each other. With mischievous smiles, they leaned closer to Oolong.   
  
"Kimi no wakasa kakusanaide...!"   
  
"RRRARGH!!!" Oolong slammed his hands on the wheel, squeezing a hoarse, grating beep from the car-horn.   
  
It had been like this ever since they left the karaoke place. Bulma and Goku would burst out with some ridiculous song, and Oolong would tell them, in the most polite voice he could muster, to please shut the hell up, which of course would be totally ignored. Worse still, since Puar and Yamcha were still suffering from massive hangovers, he had no one to back him up, so he was left stranded in the minority.   
  
Oolong briefly glanced back at Trunks, wondering if he'd be willing to put an end to the karaoke terror known as Goku and Bulma. But Trunks seemed too much into his own thoughts to care too much. In fact, Trunks had been like that even since they retrieved the Three Star Ball. He spoke only when spoken to, and tuned out everything else, save taking furtive glances at Bulma.   
  
(What's the hell's his deal?) Oolong's eyes narrowed as he kept Trunks in the corner of his vision. (Ever since we left, he's been acting like a damn spy. What's he so worried about anyway?)   
  
Oh well, curiosity killed the cat, not the pig. "Hey Trunks," Oolong tapped him on the shoulder.   
  
"W-wha..." Trunks jerked out of his trance, going rigid for a moment "What is it?" he managed, calming down a bit.  
  
"Hey, you alright?" Oolong raised his eyebrow. "You look kinda out of it."   
  
"I'm fine," Trunks muttered quickly, turning away from the pig.   
  
"C'mon, don't give me that," he admonished, frowning. "You're worried about something. Admit it."   
  
"It's nothing, really," Trunks kept his eyes trained on the countryside. They grew distant and hazy, seeing the mountains and forests only as vague blurs on the horizon. Then, he turned back around, glancing quickly at Bulma and Goku. When he say that they were distracted, he sighed and leaned up to Oolong's ear.   
  
"You really don't notice anything strange?" Trunks asked in a low whisper.   
  
"Strange about what?" Oolong responded, non-comprehending.   
  
"This whole trip...there's something different about all of this." he continued. "I feel that this is just a prelude to disaster."   
  
"How so?"   
  
"Things are happening." Trunks' eyes grew sharp and calculating. "I don't know whether they're good or bad, but I do know that they will change many things. And I just fear...that the consequences will be catastrophic."   
  
"Trunks, what are you getting at?" Oolong started to lose his patience. "You're not telling me something. What do you know that we don't?"   
  
"I...can't tell you everything," His eyebrows furrowed, contemplating on how much more he could say. "Just know that events will come to pass, and they might be what you least expect."   
  
"What events?!" Oolong demanded. "What are you talking about?! Hey, Trunks!"   
  
But Trunks had closed his eyes to the pig, going back into his deep meditation. And Oolong knew that that all was he would get out of him, for the moment.   
  
*****   
  
Guided by its centrifugal force, the Hoi-Poi capsule whirled through the air on a low arc to the flat space on the plain. Impacting on the hard turf, the unknown mechanisms set to work executing their function, masked by a pink haze of smoke. And when it was over, a medium sized capsule cabin stood among the trees and wildflowers.   
  
"There we go!" Bulma put away her Hoi-Poi case in her side pocket. "Let's hit the showers!" Picking up a large suitcase, she led the group into the house's welcoming door.   
  
Goku stood a moment more staring at the mysterious contraption, then shook his head in awe. No matter how many times he saw it, this whole "houses coming out of caplets" thing still baffled the daylights out of him. But he shrugged it off and followed the others in. After all, there were plenty of years left to get used to it.   
  
The overhead lights were already activated, and the cooling systems emitted a low hum throughout the small house. The luminescence shone off the white walls, giving it a slightly sterile appearance. And yet, there was still enough personality in the room to give it a lived-in feel. Brightly colored flowers decorated the tabletops, and pictures of family and friends adorned the walls, giving a sort of 'home away from home' look to the cold shelter.   
  
On the round table lay the group's various commodities: Bulma's capsule case, Trunks' sword, etc. so Goku followed suit and placed his Nyoibo with the rest. Then, on second thought, he pulled his outer gi vest over his head and threw it onto the pile, leaving him clad in his navy muscle shirt and orange pants.   
  
He kept Sushinchu on him, though.   
  
To his right, Goku heard a blunt clicking mechanism. He turned his head, and saw Bulma exiting her room. "Well, the others are all asleep," she said, heading over to the coffee machine. "I think I'm going to stay up a bit later, though." After pouring a cupful, she turned to the TV room. "Feel free to do whatever, Goku." she tossed over her shoulder. "You know, train, eat..." She let the line trail off, and continued out of the room.   
  
Goku turned back to the table, and grabbed his vest off the pile. Methodically, he pushed his head in through it, and started to work his arms through the short sleeves. He was almost done with the left one when he was hit with a sudden revelation.   
  
Didn't he just take these things off?   
  
Goku immediately ceased his actions and put his right hand to his chin, his left still caught in his shirt. What was he doing, again? Getting ready to train, right?   
  
No, that's not what he was going to do. His actions, taking off his shirt and Nyoibo, blatantly stated that he hadn't been planning on training at all. When he thought about it, he realized he hadn't trained since a week ago, when he left with Yamcha and Puar on the Dragon Ball hunt.   
  
So if he wasn't going to train...   
  
What was he planning on doing?   
  
Goku blinked his eyes, then started to take off the vest again. Whatever he was going to do, it was obviously not training. He could always catch up on martial arts some other day. Right now he'd find something else to do.   
  
After placing his outer garment on the table, he scanned the room, looking for inspiration. Instinctually, he picked out the refrigerator out of the array of appliances in the homely little room.   
  
Five minutes later, Goku had created his grand masterpiece. Somewhat of a fusion between a taco salad and a chocolate custard pie, this confection stood about three feet out of the green bowl that contained it. Within its confines were eggs, tomatoes, and soy sauce. And on top, it was garnished with mushrooms, whipped cream, and just a touch of fried wolf. Truly, a venerable feast in its own right.   
  
Picking up the bowl with both hands, Goku licked his lips hungrily. It'd been a while since he'd had a good home-cooked meal. Opening his mouth wide, he prepared to gulp it down.   
  
But just before he put his lips to the rim, his ears picked off a variety of miscellaneous sounds from the other half of the house. He peeked in through a crack in the door to see an illuminated Bulma, crying her eyes out over a soap.   
  
Goku groaned. Why do women always get themselves so worked up over such silly things? It's just flashy lights in a box that just happen to look like people, and places, and monsters...   
  
Monsters...   
  
Goku's eyes lit up with an evil gleam...   
  
*****   
  
The tears poured out of her eyes as Bulma cried her heart out for the sorrows of Chad and Miriam, two lovers that never could seem to get together. There they were, just about to admit their true love when suddenly, Miriam's husband walked in the door, revealing that Chad had been having affairs with five other women, the least of which is that they were all hermaphroditic serial killers. The drama increased when Chad suddenly came down with a strange lung virus, and had to sell his expensive sports convertible and auction off all his children to pay for the medical costs. Not to mention that during his stay at the hospital, his evil twin suddenly resurfaced, and started to wreak havoc with his social life. But the most shocking development was when Chad suddenly turned into a five foot Godzilla-type monster and spewed burning fire straight at Bulma's HEAD!!!   
  
"WWWAAAHHH!!!" Bulma flew down onto the floor onto her rump, gaping at the horrifying image. Her eyes franticly whirled around, only to catch sight of the alleged perpetrator: the martial artist known as Goku, remote in hand and laughing like crazy.   
  
"Goku, youuu..." she seethed, rising up slowly. She curled her fingers with the intent of inflicting bodily harm upon Goku's person.   
  
"Hey, have a sense of humor, Bulma!" he said easily, walking up to the easy chair. A large bowl was cupped in his arm, which he placed on the table before plopping down in the seat and putting his feet up.   
  
"So...whatcha doin'?" He folded his arms behind his head, smiling easily.   
  
"Nothing really," Bulma sighed, brushing a wandering strand of hair out of her face.   
  
But Goku just grinned wider. "Nothing?" he said, raising his eyebrows. "Sounds cool."   
  
Bulma looked strangely at Goku for just a moment. Then, she let the grin crawl onto her face. "Okay then," she said, snatching up the remote and flicking though channels randomly.   
  
*****   
  
After about thirty minutes, Goku and Bulma were seated on the couch, watching the closing credits to the program they had decided upon. Between then sat the green bowl, the dessert down to about a fourth of its former height. Their postures were saggy and relaxed, and both of them looked very comfortable.   
  
At first, there was a bit of strife in the way of channel watching. Bulma wanted to continue her soap opera, while Goku wanted to turn to the cooking channel. In the end, after some more arguing and a broken lamp, they settled on a Gaijin show, featuring three girls with oversized heads that battled the forces of evil.   
  
"Well, that was interesting," Bulma blinked a few times, then turned to Goku. "Didn't you think those gadgets were the coolest things ever?"   
  
"And their fighting techniques were somethin', too," he nodded. "I've never seen such odd maneuvers before."   
  
"Why so impressed, Goku?" Bulma raised an eyebrow in mock-dismay. "It's nothing you couldn't match."   
  
"Nah, those girls are somethin' else," He shook his head. "Heck, I bet they're even a match for Vegeta!"   
  
Suddenly, Bulma's eyes blinked. Vegeta. She's been so distracted with the Dragon Ball hunt that she had hardly thought of him at all until this moment. A small part of her wondered what he was doing right now.   
  
(Probably cooped up in that Gravity Room.) Bulma scowled bitterly, as the other much larger part of her came into play, the part that couldn't care less. He could train his brains out for all she cared. She'd have fun without him.   
  
With her fingers, she made a pincer grasp to retrieve the remote, only to discover that her pincer was covered in chocolate. Putting them to her mouth, she licked the coating off cleanly. "You know, that was actually pretty good," she told Goku, running her tongue across her lips. "What's in it?"   
  
"Oh you know, just a little bit of this and that," he chuckled nervously, putting his hand behind his head. He had decided to refrain from informing her of the delicacy's contents, on the grounds that it might induce violent nausea and other unpleasant results. Plus, she'd probably hit him.   
  
"Hmm," Bulma seemed to regard this for a moment, then turned to him. "Can you make more?" she asked.   
  
Goku let loose with a wide grin. "You bet!" he said, happy that his "cooking" was appreciated. He then got up from his chair and headed back to the kitchenette to cook up another batch. He reached for the spoon, then, upon discovering it was too dirty for use, opened up the cabinet for a new one. But it was the wrong one, for this one was filled with only odds and ends. He slowly started to close the drawer.   
  
Then he looked again. On top of the various utilities was a small envelope.And printed above the seal, in sharp blue letters, was the phrase "Dragon Ball."   
  
"What's this?" Goku picked up the envelope, studying it. He squinted his vision, as if trying to break through the thin paper with only his eyes. He gave its contents a shake, rattling the articles against the insides. "Odd..."   
  
Deciding to talk to Bulma about it, Goku walked back into the TV room. "Bulma!" he called out, causing the other to turn her head. "You know what this is?"   
  
Bulma rose and walked over for a closer look. "I don't know," she said, taking the letter from his hand. Like Goku before her, she also analyzed the mystery packet, but instead of staying put, she moved over near the sofa, holding it over a small table. She fixed her thumb underneath the flap. "Only one way to find out," she decided, and broke the seal.   
  
Out of the envelope's opening poured forth a variety of photographs. Most of them were four-by-eight's, although there were some larger printouts that folded out. Just about all of them looked crisp and fresh; however, judging by the dates printed on their backs, they were actually more than a decade old.   
  
"I've never seen these before..." she mussed, sifting through the pile methodically. "I wonder what...oh, Kami!" she suddenly burst out.   
  
"What?" Goku asked. "What is it?"   
  
"Look!" She pointed out at the stack.   
  
And there, on the top most photo, was Goku, Bulma, Yamcha, Oolong, and Puar, as young as when they first met. Chibi Goku stood proudly with Nyoibo poised into the ground, while Bulma was right behind him, grinning smartly. Yamcha was further behind, appearing to size up the group. Finally, the shape shifters stood to the side, rounding out the group.   
  
"Oh man..." Goku's eyes widened at the sight of his old self staring up at him. The boy's eyes were wide eyed and trusting, yet contained the confidence and expertise of a warrior. It was like someone had taken his body and squeezed it into a pint sized version of itself, then photographed it for amusement.   
  
"Wow..." Bulma breathed, turning up more of the pictures. Almost all of them captured a moment in there past, back when they were chasing after the Dragon Balls.   
  
"Hey, here's that photo with you in Oolong's pants!" Bulma giggled, laughing at the silly getup. Goku looked a bit offended ,but smirked when he found his counter in another photo.   
  
"Heh, look at this," He turned it up for her to see. It was Bulma, decked out in a Play-Boy bunny outfit, looking very displeased with the situation.   
  
"GIVE me that!" she snapped, grabbing the photo. She then crumpled it into a ball and tossed it into a wastebasket over to her side, ignoring Goku's good-natured chuckling.   
  
They continued like this for some time, pulling up the photos one by one for both to examine. Each had their own reactions to them: sometimes laughter, sometimes confusion, and sometimes a soft smile.   
  
"Hmm, I wonder what this one is?" he pondered, taking one of the prints from underneath. Carefully he opened up the folds, then laid it flat on the table, smoothing out the creases as best he could.   
  
And what he saw struck him breathless.   
  
Depicted on the photograph were Goku and Bulma, seated on their respective vehicles, Kintu'on and Capsule bike. Bulma competently clutched the cycle's grip, winking attractively for the camera. Goku oblivious to the other, was making bunny ears, showing off his trademark grin.   
  
Behind them shone the brilliant swirls of a western sunset, framing the couple in a bold aura. It illuminated their outlines, giving them the appearance of smiling silhouettes, their bright innocent eyes shining with the light of a great, never-ending adventure.   
  
Goku had nothing to say. He just looked on, and on, stroking their faces with his eyes again and again. Were those two kids really them?   
  
Then, the picture blurred as a drop of water distorted its image. Then another fell, drenching the photo further. Then another. Goku finally looked up, and found that Bulma's face was drench in tears. Her eyes were misted over, reflecting the photo's image with perfected clarity. Her mouth hung in an unreadable expression; whether it was happiness or despair couldn't be determined.   
  
She turned to Goku, and offered him a bittersweet smile. "Those really were some good times, weren't they," she sniffed quietly.   
  
"Yes, they were," Goku said seriously, his face set into a neutral mask.   
  
"...do you wish that you could go back to those times?" she asked him, refusing to meet his eyes   
  
"Isn't that what we're doing?" He raised his eyebrows.   
  
"Yes, but... " She lowered her head once more. "This trip will end soon, and then we'll be back to our old lives. You training to be the best, and me at home, working on my inventions."   
  
"It's like..." Bulma struggled for the correct words. " ...we were angels, just traveling the skies, careless and free. Only now our wings have been clipped, and we're earthbound for the rest of time. And sometimes... " She closed her eyes, squeezing the remaining tears from her eyes. "I want my wings back."   
  
Goku was at a loss of words, hearing his oldest friend pour her heart out to him. Whenever someone made him a confidant, he was always left wondering what to do, how best to alleviate their suffering. He hated seeing others sad, but didn't always have the words to make everything better.   
  
So he did the only thing he could. He put one arm around her shoulder, gripping it comfortably. "Let's not worry about the future," he told her, putting as much assurance into his voice as he could. "All we can do is fly as far as we can on the wings we have now."   
  
Bulma stared deep within his honest eyes, windows into a soul that she'd known for almost half her life. A soul that spent its time hardening for combat, but that'd never really hurt anyone. She drew out stoicism, goofiness, confidence and compassion, all wrapped up into the man known as Son Goku.   
  
And the way he said it, she believed.   
  
Letting her body relax, Bulma leaned into his side. Melting against his frame, her breathing calmed as she absorbed the warmth of his body. Sighing into the air, she closed her eye slowly, blocking everything else out.   
  
Her mind didn't really register her actions, nor did it recall the place or time. All she knew is that Goku was here with her, and that he'd make everything better.   
  
All she knew is that Goku would make it all right.   
  
*****   
  
Goku sat on the couch, keeping perfectly still. A small time had passed since Bulma had fallen asleep, yet he was still here, at the same place he had been for two hours. Whether is was because he didn't want to wake her or some other reason, he didn't know. He didn't know anything.   
  
He looked down. Bulma's face was serene, with eyes closed in sleep. Light breathing rustled a ;stray hair, just a little bit. Her body had softened into jelly, supported only by his own presence.   
  
Rising out of the couch, Goku stretched out some muscles, stiff from sitting down so long. Once he was done, he turned back to Bulma, deciding that the best thing to do was to put her in bed.   
  
Maneuvering his arms underneath her, Goku carefully lifted his slumbering friend upwards. Keeping an arm to support her back, he moved her to the bedroom, where a futon lay neat and welcoming. He slowly lowered her onto the soft padding, and gently removed his arms. He started to leave the room, then, on second thought, he returned and grabbed a blanket from the linen closet. After unfolding it, he laid it over Bulma, covering her to the neck. After he was done, he exited the room, shutting the door behind him.   
  
He walked through the hallway, methodically navigating the path by memory. His mind's eye found the door outside, and he traveled through it without a second thought. He circled around the Capsule House to its rear, where he could see the stars shine from the clear night.   
  
Leaning against its rounded hull, Goku took one deep breath. And then, for the first time, he began to put the past week in order.   
  
Ever since he had started on this Dragon Ball journey, he had been flying on a cloud of candy. Everywhere around him was new experiences, new sights, new challenges to overcome. It had been so much fun that he'd even forgotten about training, too busy concentrating on the world around him to care as much as he normally did.   
  
He looked at his hand, suddenly finding that the last photo he has looked at had somehow ended up in his hand. Bulma's tears still lay on top of it, obscuring the image and tarnishing the memory. This frustrated him, so he took his finger and gently wiped them away, restoring the image to its former glory. With this done, he held the image away, viewing it as a whole.   
  
He smiled softly. Everything had come flooding back. All those memories that he never thought twice about had suddenly resurfaced, as vibrant and wonderful as the moment they were first created. All his old relationships he had forgotten about had been renewed, picked up from the bottom of the barrel, still as good as ever. Some better than ever.   
  
Pulling the image closer, Goku looked at Bulma's visage, smiling up at him with flirtatious cheer. His smile grew melancholy as he traced her facial features with his index. It ran over her cheeks and hair, recalling everything he knew, everything he'd forgotten, and everything he learned about her.   
  
Yes, he had missed all of his friends, more than he would ever have thought he would. But what was confusing him were these strange thoughts that had surfaced recently in his brain.   
  
About Bulma.   
  
At first, their relationship seemed to pick up from where they left off, with their disagreements and misunderstandings filling the time between adventures.   
  
And yet.. there was something different between them. Maybe it was the years apart, but it seemed their relationship had metamorphosed a bit. Sure, she still had all of the personality faults she had before, but he found that he was minding them less and less, to the point where they were almost endearing to him. More than that, her quirks and attitude were bringing a smile to his face more than ever before.   
  
He had never felt like this before. Ever.   
  
And it scared him.   
  
*****   
  
Five seconds later, the clock hit midnight. At that moment, several things were happening.   
  
A man, a pig, and a cat slumbered quietly, oblivious to the events taking place right under their noses.   
  
A violet haired youth quietly pondered the future with uncertain feelings.   
  
A woman and a boy traveled the open road, looking for answers.   
  
A dark haired Saiyan followed the woman and boy, thirsting for vengeance and control.   
  
A turquoise haired woman slept soundly, tucked in by an old friend.   
  
And a young man stared at the stars, running one thought over and over in his mind:   
  
(What's happening to me?)   
  
  
  
Additional Disclaimer(s): "Romantic Ageru Yo" belongs to Takahashi Ushio, and to all other artists who contributed to this song. The Powerpuff Girls belong to Cartoon Network.   
  
Until next time, Ja ne! ^_^   



	11. Chapter 8, Part 1

  
Dragon Ball: Makafushigi Adventure   
  
By Reid M. Haynes   
  
Disclaimer: Dragon Ball and all characters within are the property of Akira Toriyama, TOEI ANIMATION, and various other companies. I am using them without permission, and I am making no money off of them.   
  
Legend:   
( ) Denotes thoughts.   
  
Tale 8: It Gets Tough, Part 1   
  
*****   
  
The early morning sun shone through the round, port-like window, imprinting it's shape on the bed sheets like a cookie cutter. This mark burned onto the sleeper's face, agitating her eyes and forcing her to rise, much to her displeasure.   
  
"Mmmph," Bulma put her hand to her forehead, moaning groggily. The light had woken her much earlier than she was ready. Yup, Daylight-Savings Time sucked. Especially when you stayed up late.   
  
(Funny. I don't remember ever going to bed)   
  
Dragging her feet to the bathroom, Bulma grabbed the faucet knob, turning on a jet of water. Cupping the water in her palms, she threw it into her face in an effort to wake up. After that was done, she sputtered and coughed, rubbing her eyes to get all the drops out, wondering why she did something so stupid.   
  
After a little while, she wandered out of her room, a little bit better for wear. Her slippers muffled her footsteps as she walked the ways to the breakfast area, ready for pancakes.   
  
Rounding the corner, she arrived just in time to witness Yamcha, clothed in only a T-shirt and boxers. His wild hair formed a messy wreath around his forehead; a stray lock completely covered one of his eyes. But the eye that was visible was clouded and bloodshot.   
  
When he was aware of Bulma's presence, he gave her a rough smile, without really seeing her. "Hey there," he chimed tiredly, then put his hand to his temple in a sudden burst of pain. "D-damn…"   
  
"What's up?" she asked him casually.   
  
"It's this stupid hangover," he complained, rubbing his hand through his bangs. "I swear, you have a couple dozen drinks, and the tide just rolls in."   
  
"You said it," agreed a voice from inside the room. Bulma looked over and down to spy Puar, stumbling out the door lazily. His ears and forehead were covered by a large moon-covered stocking cap, almost as big as the cat himself. He would have looked very cute, expect for the fact that his eyes were just as dazed as his master's.   
  
"Maybe you should cut down," Bulma advised the pair wisely.   
  
"Abstinence?" Yamcha's eyebrows lifted. "Well..I guess. What do you think, Puar?"   
  
"Worth a try," Puar mumbled. "I mean, it's works for Goku, doesn't it."   
  
"Yeah, but Mr. Sports Drink's never touched a shot in his life." Yamcha snickered, and both of them started laughing hysterically, grasping their skulls in agony when their headaches kicked in again.   
  
Bulma just nodded her head mechanically to this exchange, not really caring too much about the Bandits' drinking habits.   
  
But when her ears picked up Goku's name, her eyes snapped open, and she was finally jolted wide-awake,  
  
"Goku…" she mouthed silently. Last nights events hit her like a tsunami rush: the time they had spent together, the secrets she had shared with him, and the place where she must've fallen asleep. "Oh man…"   
  
Bulma put her hand to her chest, only to find her heart was racing, beating a panicked rhythm of unknown emotion. Surprised at this, she put more pressure onto her ribcage, as if she could quell the violent pulse simply by force.   
  
"Hellooo!" Bulma suddenly snapped up. Yamcha was making knocking motions with his knuckles. "Hey, anybody there?"   
  
"Huh? Y-yeah, I'm fine," she said quickly, meeting his eyes in what she hoped was an alert manner. It didn't work.   
"Whoa! Are you spaced out!" Yamcha exclaimed, cocking one eyebrow. "You okay? You're not sick or something, are you?"   
  
"It's…just that I haven't had my coffee yet," she covered hesitantly, rubbing the back of her head.   
Yamcha just stood there, not looking like he quite believed her. "Whatever," he shrugged. "At least let's get some   
breakfast. C'mon, Puar." Motioning to his friend, he walked the rest of the ways through the hall, the cat-creature bounding after him.   
  
Bulma let out a large sigh of relief, and followed the ex-Desert Bandits to the breakfast area. But this relief was to be short lived, for there was Goku, dressed still in his orange gi, still minus the outer vest. From his appearance, he had apparently slept on the field outside, evidenced by the small tuffs of grass hanging onto his washboard stomach, and by the way the dewdrops shone from his well-muscled arms, giving him the appearance of a wild nature god.   
  
Then, Bulma's mind cleared up a bit, and found that her cheeks were burning with a hot flush. (I really don't need this.) With that realization, she shook off the jitters overtaking her body, and willed herself to look at the table again.   
  
Goku, previously busy devouring his bowl of "Cookie Crisp," now looked up at Bulma. "Hey," he greeted, swallowing his last mouthful of his meal. "You're finally up."   
  
"Huh-hi," Bulma said, looking down at the floor, hoping he wouldn't notice her blush. Luckily, he was busy licking the crumbs from his lips to pay close attention.   
  
"It's a good thing, too," he said, placing the now-empty cereal box next to the other 56 "Cookie Crisp" containers he had engulfed this breakfast. "I was just about to tell Yamcha about what we found last night."   
  
"Yeah," Yamcha nodded, as he poured himself a bowl of "Wheeties." "What were you saying? Something about pictures?"   
  
"Yeah," Goku smiled, starting to get psyched up. "I was looking though the drawer, and I found this envelope, full of old pics when we were back on the hunt."   
  
"Whoa!" Puar goggled, taking a bite of the one "Cookie Crisp" bowl he had managed to sneak away from Goku. "Were there any photos of me in it?"   
  
"There were photos of everyone!" he answered sprightly. "You, Yamcha, Oolong and Bulma."   
  
"That's so cool!" Puar cheered happily.   
  
"Yup!" Goku nodded. Then, his eyes wandered to Puar's cereal bowl. "You gonna eat that?" he inquired innocently.   
  
The shape-shifter's face fell. "No," he sighed, reluctantly pushing the bowl to the Saiyan, who proceeded to demolish it with ruthless enthusiasm.   
  
"But where did you put them, Goku?" Yamcha asked.   
  
"They should still be on the table," he replied, then got up from the table. I'll go get them…wait." Goku's hand wandered through his pockets. "I got one on me right now. It's of Bulma and me!"   
  
Bulma's heart skipped a beat.   
  
"It's right here," He said, then started to pull out a small Polaroid shot. "Here, let me show you…"   
  
"No!" Bulma suddenly found that her hand had darted out, intercepting the photo before it was halfway out.   
  
"Huh?" Goku went wide-eyed, staring at her. "Why not?"   
  
"I…just don't want to see it now." Bulma stammered as she assessed her own actions. There really wasn't why logical reason why the photo shouldn't be shown to them. But that didn't matter. All she knew is that she didn't want to see that picture.   
  
"But we just looked at it last night," Goku protested. "Why don't you want to see it?"   
  
"Because I don't, okay!?" she snapped, her frustration quickly turning to anger.   
  
"Hey, why are you getting all mad at Goku?" Yamcha spoke up, putting down his spoon. "Why are you acting like this? What's wrong with you?"   
  
"I'M FINE!!!" Bulma suddenly snapped out, and Yamcha and Goku shrunk back in surprise, their eyes wide with shock.   
  
"Look, stop with all these questions!" Bulma growled, rising up from the table quickly. "Just leave me alone, alright?" She stormed out of the room, nearly bumping into Trunks, who was leaning against the doorframe.   
Goku sat there with a look of confusion on his face, ignoring his last bowl of cereal. "What did I do?"   
  
*****   
  
(I don't get it.) Goku walked down the hallway of the Capsule House, a large frown stretched onto his face. (We were getting along fine last night, and now this.) He jammed his hands into his pockets. (I'll never understand women…)   
  
Truth be told, though, he wasn't really feeling all that great himself. He had spent that night outside on the moor, looking up at the stars and trying to sort out his feelings. Unsuccessful, he had woken up among the grass stems and decided to seek breakfast to cheer himself up. He was almost back to his usual good spirits to when that business with Bulma suddenly came out of the blue, bringing him back to his earlier dazed state.   
  
(Best not to dwell on that now,) he thought, opening up the door to outside. (Gotta concentrate on Trunks.)   
  
As he stepped out onto the plain, his mind flashed back to just after Bulma left. He was sitting in front of his cereal, which was already getting soggy, when Trunks had called his name.   
  
"Goku," he had said, looking at him through the corner of his eye. "I need to speak with you. Right now."   
  
"What about?" Goku responded. "Can't you say it right now?"   
  
But Trunks ignored the comment as if it hadn't been spoken, and turned to the doorframe. "I'll be waiting out back," he said, motioning his thumb behind him. And then he was gone.   
  
(Trunks' never this demanding unless it's urgent) Goku mussed as he rounded the curved building. (What could he want?)   
  
These thoughts came to a close as Goku met his impromptu rendezvous. There was Trunks, leaned up against a hardwood tree. An apple bounded up and down from his hand, juggled by the whims of its careless puppeteer. Then, the puppet met it's end on its master's steel blade, split into two as the youth began the process anew with another.   
  
"Hey, I'm here," Goku said as causally as he could. "What's up?"   
  
Trunks acknowledged the other's presence with a nod, but kept up his nervous habit of cutting apples. His eyes remained trained on their task as they followed the motions of the cuts, taking in every slash of the sword, making each incision as perfect as it could be.   
  
Goku just waited through all of this. He figured that whatever Trunks had to say was important, so he could stand a little procrastination. Still, the nervousness displayed was almost cause for alarm in itself.   
  
(If he's that worried, then it must really be a problem.)  
  
The shards of fruit finally ceased their fall as Trunks sheathed his sword. With a hard chink, he covered his blade to the hilt, and straightened up from his tree trunk post. Then, he finally turned to face Goku, and looked straight into his eyes.   
  
"Before I make my request, you must promise me something," The pupils shone like tiny sapphires, locking onto his very soul. "You must promise to answer me as truthfully as you can. Even if you know it could be harmful, you tell me the truth anyway. Do you understand?"   
  
The eyes never left his for a second, and Goku had no doubts of the seriousness of his statement. "I understand," Goku said quietly, meeting his gaze with equal intensity.   
  
Trunks' face remained as stone could as ever, showing next to no regard that he had heard the pledge at all. But the eyes twinkled with understanding, and Goku knew that he understood.   
  
They stood a moment more like this, silently waiting for Trunks to make his statement. Then, he did.   
  
"Tell me about Bulma."   
  
"What?" Goku's eyebrows widened.  
  
"Tell me everything you feel about her. What she was to you in the past, what she is now, and what you hope for her to be. Tell me what you think of her, and what she means to you. All of it, as much as you can say."   
  
"Trunks…" Goku started to say.   
  
"Please Goku," Trunks interrupted, and for the first time, Goku saw the emotion leave his eyes. "I know this is difficult, and I'm truly sorry to have to ask like this. But I desperately need to know. I need to know what you think before it's too late. Tell me."   
  
Goku took a step backward, completely dumbfounded at the boy's speech. Yes, he had known beforehand that there was something different going on, ever since the previous night. And yes, none of the statements were really shocking in of themselves.   
  
But for Trunks to have said this, to be so serious about it, that was cause for alarm indeed.   
  
So Goku decided that the only approach was to be honest. And say exactly what he felt.   
  
"Well…" Goku said, putting his hand to his chin. "Bulma's kinda bossy sometimes. And she's real fussy about some stuff. Then again, she can be really fun to be around, and I like traveling with her, a lot. She really interests me and…and…"   
  
Goku closed his eyes. "…Sometimes…every now and again…I feel…funny…when I'm around her. Like I'm nervous, but I don't want to leave. I don't want to do anything, except stay. I…"   
  
"You love her," Trunks spoke the statement quietly, almost too quietly for him to hear.   
  
Goku opened his eyes. "Is that what I'm feeling?" he asked him.   
  
But Trunks only lowered his head, his bangs obscuring his eyes completely. He had no need to respond, because the truth had already been revealed.   
  
(I'm in love with Bulma?) Goku's mind sprung with a multitude of thoughts. (I…I can't be! Then again, it does seem to make sense with the way I feel. But this is all so different …I don't know what to think.)   
  
Trunks let out a small sigh, then looked up sadly at Goku. "Thank you for answering honestly," he told him softly. "Now my suspicions are complete."   
  
"Suspicions?" Goku asked. "What are you…?"   
  
"Do you want to know the real reason I went on this trip?"   
  
The question had come completely out of the blue, and it stunned Goku. "What?" he asked.   
  
"Do you want to know the real reason I went on this trip?" Trunks repeated in a clear tone of voice.   
  
Goku hesitated a few moments more before finding his voice. "…Why?" he asked him slowly.   
  
Trunks took a deep breath. "It all started when I had returned home from the battle with Cell. I was discussing my father, and the times I had spent with him. As usual, Mother retained her cynical disposition, going off on how stubborn and idiotic he could be."   
  
"At first, I thought my mother was merely hiding her affections, as means of a defense mechanism against old wounds. But when the subject came onto you, I saw that that was not entirely the case. She would go and tell long stories about how brave and strong you were. And when I looked into her eyes," Trunks looked up. "They glowed with such a regretful longing that it was painful to look at. And at that moment, I knew that it was really you that held her thoughts in the past."   
  
"She..." Goku gaped. "She loves…me?"   
  
Trunks nodded. "Or at least had strong affection for you." Goku took in all of this with wide, fishlike eyes, and Trunks waited for him to fully absorb this revelation before he continued.   
  
"Normally, if history was as it should be, this wouldn't be he come to this. In my world, you and my father are dead, so my mother's feelings remained pretty static for the both of you. But here," He looked at him. "You two are quite alive, and the potential for the feelings to grow is as strong as it could be."   
  
"When I learned that her feelings might develop for you instead of my father, I took the time machine back to this era. To watch. To make sure that my suspicions were true. And hopefully," He took a breath. "To prevent any disasters from happening."   
  
"What's going to happen?" Goku asked him.   
  
"Look above you," Trunks said, and pointed towards the sky.   
  
At first, Goku sense nothing out of the ordinary in the crisp blue heavens. But then, the familiar sting of raised ki stabbed into his mind. His ears picked up the vibrating pulse of circulating energy, fluctuating as wildly as the beat of Goku's pulse.   
  
Then the clouds split apart, giving way for a golden comet of energy. And contained within that comet was the silhouette of a man, with hair like wildfire, features like granite, and eyes like Hell itself.   
  
Vegeta.   
  
"Wha…" Goku stared after the bolt of energy, following it all the way to its resting point: about ten meters from the Capsule House. "Trunks, what is Vegeta doing here? Trunks, what's going on?" For the first time in years, Goku was scared. He didn't know what was happening, and what he didn't know, he couldn't fight. And what he couldn't fight could fight him, only there wouldn't be much of a fight, only a defeat.   
  
Trunks seamed not to hear Goku's questions, but instead turned from the Saiyan, facing the nearly woods. He took a few steps away from his tree-side post, placing himself a small distance from any immediate obstacles.   
Then, with a glance over the shoulder, Trunks said his final piece: "Goku, get ready." With a burst of ghostly energy, he sprung from the grassy plain toward the forests.   
  
Thus, Trunks was gone.   
  
*****   
  
Seated on a chair facing the meadow, Bulma viewed the outside world through the rounded window. Her hand propped up her cheekbone in a lazy, apathetic position, though she felt neither of these things at the moment. A cold cup of coffee chilled her palm with the frigid burn it had collected in the air-conditioned chamber, but she neglected this discomfort in favor of examining the world beyond the glass.   
  
In particular she picked out the butterflies that hovered just above the lilies that sparsely adorned the plains. One would occasionally swoop onto a flower, stay as long as it pleased, then flutter off to another as soon as it was bored. An endless sort of lifestyle, to be sure, but the butterfly never seemed to care. Why should it care? It had no real reason to, in the end.   
  
Then, one of the butterflies she has been watching more intently decided to rest on the curvature of the windowsill. Bulma stared at it. It stood so close that Bulma could've reach out and taken it into her grasp. It even seemed to be looking at her, as if wondering when her hand would wander beyond the glass and meet his.   
  
But she couldn't.   
  
With a few rapid flicks of its wings, the butterfly ended its brief visit, soaring off to greener pastures, disappearing from the narrow view of the window that had prevented her hand with its glass barrier. Bulma sighed, running a hand through her hair absentmindedly.   
  
(It was just a stupid butterfly, anyway,) she told herself, more reflexively than out of any real need to make her believe herself.   
  
She then decided to focus on the glass itself, rather then what lay beyond it. It was a simple thing, really, yet it succeeded keeping the outside world inches away from her fingertips, keeping her secure within the cabin. It was intangible, as well, and couldn't be seen at all unless you looked at it from the correct angle. When you did, however, the light would shine through every bit of the fluid, making it as solid an object as the material it trapped within the shelter.   
  
But the most disturbing aspect of it was that it reflected the image of its captives. Bulma was looking as her pseudo-self with an interest normally unknown to her. Instead of admiring her own features like normal, she instead stared straight into the eyes. Still youthful, but clouded with memories that slowly aged them, eating away at their brightness and tinting it's hues to a dull, gray color. Like something was rotting away deep within her soul.   
Bulma shook her head a couple times, shaking these disturbing thoughts back to her sub-conscious. With normal clarity, she looked back at the reflection, seeing only her face once more. Her face, the glass that reflected it, and the meadow beyond it. With a few blinks for good measure, she resumed looking out.   
  
Only to find her attention slowly drifting to something else. Behind her reflection, inside the mirror world that it resided, was another figure. It shone with translucent gold light, which was slowly fading out into a pale, white shade. That light disappeared too, and the figure was revealed for what it was: a thirty-some year old man, folding his arms, looking very cross with her reflection, with her.   
  
Bulma turned away from the window.   
  
"You seem surprised to see me," Vegeta spoke quietly, but with a menace that made itself clear. "From your eyes, it's quite obvious you weren't expecting company."   
  
She really wasn't expecting this at all, but she couldn't make herself be surprised. With the way things were going, this was a natural occurrence.   
  
"Why would that be? Ah yes, I know," The Saiyan prince's voice was picking up in pace and pitch, letting more sarcasm seep into its grip. "You were too busy lollygaging with the third-class weakling to think about anything else!" Finally, his voice reached its full intensity, and he glared at his mate with an intensity that would melt mountains.   
  
They never melted Bulma, though. She simply met him eye to eye, and mentally went into battle-mode. "So," she responded coldly. "Why do you care?"   
  
"As if you didn't know." Vegeta's anger grew more ingrained with his posture, settling into a general aura of malice around him. "You deliberately ignored my order to stay away from those pathetic Earthlings. Instead, you willing took part in their idiotic games, enjoying all the ridiculous foolishness that makes me detest them so."   
  
"Foolishness?" she challenged, stepping closer to her mate. "I was having fun, something I'm quite entitled to, in case you ever noticed."   
  
"And to think," Vegeta ignored her comment as if it was never spoken. "of all of the people to waste your time with, you would choose that Kakarott! The brainless idiot who couldn't tie his shoe without thirty men to help him...!"   
  
"Shut up!" Bulma had had enough, and formed her hands into angry fists. "His name is Goku, and he's a great man! He's saved this world many times, and always steps out of his way to help someone in need!" Bulma was shaking from the sheer amount of emotion coursing through her veins, and she found it difficult to keep her voice from vibrating.   
  
But she didn't care anymore. She was tired of this Prince of all jerks insulting all her friends and telling her what to do like some damn slave overseer. So she went on, driven by her righteous anger. "You know Vegeta, if there's one thing I admire about Goku, it's that he always treats everyone with respect, something you've never done with anyone, least of all me. Why don't you lay off him?"   
  
Vegeta waited a moment, assessing her statement. Then he narrowed his eyes, and his pupils started to flicker   
dangerously. "If I didn't know better," he growled, the unnatural spark dancing in his eyes. "I'd think you have feelings for this moronic friend of yours."   
  
"SO WHAT IF I DO!?" Bulma suddenly screamed, launching her face two inches from his. "Goku's TWICE the man YOU ARE! He..." She suddenly started gasping, the fierce shouting finally taking a toll on her lungs. When she had finally caught her breath, she looked into his eyes again…and was stunned at what she saw.   
  
Vegeta's expression had changed drastically. The arrogant lines had vanished, and the strained mouth has relaxed, opening up into a gaping hole. Most of all, it was the eyes. Those shocked, scared eyes, speaking of disbelief and fear. All the emotions that he repressed, but were intrinsic of his nature, none the less.   
  
"Bulma…" he said quietly, his tone a shadow of its former self. It was broken and distorted, like a child that had grown up too fast and too repressed.   
  
"Vegeta, I…" Bulma slowly moved her hand, and touched his cheek softly. Her intent was unknown, even to her. Whether this was "I'm sorry," "I love you," or simply "Goodbye," she didn't know.   
It didn't matter, anyway. Because, slowly, Vegeta's gaze was returning to its dark hue, and the facial muscles were tensed in anger.   
  
No, this wasn't his former anger, Bulma realized. The anger that now dominated Vegeta's soul was almost overpowering. His mouth now revealed gnashed teeth that grated against each other, picking up pace by the second. The eyebrows were risen, still locked downward in hostility, but without a sense of control to them.   
  
And the eyes were starting to shine with a strange and evil light.   
  
Rage.   
  
"No!" He wretched his face from her hand "I will not accept this! I WILL NOT!!!" In an instant, the gold locks of the Super Saiyan replaced his normal ebony spikes. Saffron flame involved him, burning so bright that Bulma had to step back to avoid being burned. As it was, the energy burned straight through the floor of the Capsule House, revealing the soft earth beneath.   
  
Bulma had seen Vegeta like this only once in her life. That time was a dream she had while on planet Namek. In that dream, he had come to her, seeking the Dragon Ball stolen from him.   
Seeking vengeance for his humiliation. Vengeance through death.   
  
But Vegeta apparently had no interest in harming her. No, his hatred was directed at someone else, the cause of every one of his tortures right from the beginning. This person would meet Bulma's dreamland fate instead.   
  
"I WILL NOT!" And then, Vegeta tore out the room in a blazing flash, tearing through the plastic-like walls like cheap paper machete, on am undeviating path with his eternal rival.   
Bulma watched him go, her emotions frozen in stasis, the underlying dread slowly starting to creep in.   
  
*****   
  
It hit like at typhoon, really. The surroundings were perfectly placid, not showing a sign of any danger. Then, the sense of danger that accompanied any decent fighter suddenly klaxoned, accompanied by the now-familiar rush of Saiyan ki. The pebbles and stones immersed in the grass blades suddenly freed themselves and drew towards the vacuum that the surging energy had created. The hoarse grating sound of flying was becoming more and more defined, and the yellow light was just coming into view.   
  
And then the gloved fist smashed into Goku's jaw, propelling him on a spiraling course to the ground. He hit the dirt just as the sickening crunch has finished resounding through the meadow and nearby valleys.   
  
Goku worked his jaw around a bit, checking for any breaks. Finding no permanent damage, he craned his head towards his tormentor, finding it was indeed who he thought it was.   
  
"Bastard…" Vegeta's voice was wrought with barely contained fury. "Third…class…BASTARD!!!" With a cry, he flung a boot straight into Goku's gut, knocking a large gust of air from his mouth. Then he did it again. And again.   
With every sentence, Vegeta sent his foot into Goku, knocking more and more life from him. "You stole my conquest! You stole my destiny! And now, you're stealing my MATE!!!" Vegeta's final kick drove a cry of pain from his victim, along with a fair amount of blood and saliva.   
  
Bending over, he ripped Goku upward by the shirt, forcing him to look Vegeta in the eye. "For everything you've done, you deserve no lesser punishment than death." He made an open-palm, as means of sending a bolt straight through his spine.   
  
Instead, though, he let his grasp weaken, and the other Saiyan toppled to the ground in a heap. "But merely ended your life gives me no great satisfaction. No, Kakarott," For a brief moment, the old Vegeta was back, along with that ever-so-arrogant smirk. But it was the sickening shadow of him, the cruelty and evil more profound than ever before. "I want to break you. Destroy you in mind, body, and spirit, like you to me. Show you once and for all that I am truly the superior among us."   
  
The Saiyan prince straightened up, looking down as Goku as he were nothing more than a roach to be squashed. "Tomorrow, Kakarott," he said. "One day after today, and we meet on this plain. You will show up here if you are truly a Saiyan."   
  
Wiping the blood from his lips, Goku looked weakly at his adversary. "We…" he coughed, speaking for the first time since the attack. "We…are fighting for… Bulma?"   
  
"Consider it that if you will," Vegeta turned his back to him. "But there will be no "win" for you. Rest assured; I will kill you."   
  
The shorter man turned from Goku, charged up his ki, and tore off in a blast of light, leaving him battered and bruised in the meadow, butterflies dancing around him in a silent dance of mourning.   
  
*****   
  
Bulma sat in the same chair as she was before, regarding the large streak that had cut through her Capsule House. Vegeta had dug a canal in his earlier rush to get at Goku, which still stunk of smoke and ozone. Torn structure hung by slivers, adorning the tunnel of destruction.   
  
The others were going crazy now, she knew. Yamcha had jumped into his fighting gi at a moment's notice, chasing after the mystery ki. Puar has followed him, ready to apply First-Aid and emergency surgery procedures. Oolong had followed predictable pattern, making for the nearest hiding place. As for Trunks, well, he simply seemed to drop off the face of the earth.   
  
It was just as well, anyway. Bulma fought to keep the emotion locked within her. Now that she was alone, she could finally settle this matter with Goku. She would finally end this, end everything. So she waited,   
  
Sure enough, mere moments later, Goku walked slowly into the room, passing right through the hole in the wall like it was just another doorframe. His jaw bore a fresh bruise, and a trickle of blood flowed from his mouth. His eyes were filled with confusion, taking in the blatant devastation slowly, They swept across the room, giving each piece of furniture a once-over before finally training on Bulma, locking her eyes with his.   
  
Bulma regarded his disordered state for only a moment. "Vegeta, right?" She stated simply, the questioning tone of her voice only a mockery.   
  
Goku nodded once, and she sighed, placing her hand on her forehead, feeling the panic pulse through her brain. She let out a tired breath of air, and looked up at him once again.   
  
"We shouldn't have gone, Goku." she said sadly, meeting his eyes.   
  
"What do you mean?" Goku asked.   
  
"The Dragon Ball hunt, we should've just stayed home." She restated, the melancholia easing further into her tone.   
  
Goku looked like he was about to say something, but opted to wait for Bulma instead.   
  
"The trip made me think that I was still young, that I still had time to embrace freedom and adventure. But I'm not, and I can't." she clenched her fist in frustration. "I can't go and act like a kid when I have all these responsibilities. And I can't chase my feelings when I've already chosen who I'm going to be with…"   
  
"You mean like love?" Suddenly Goku cut her off, and it was Bulma's turn to be wide eyed.   
  
"Huh?" she said.   
  
"Well, a little while ago, I started to have these weird feelings." Goku lowered his head to the floor. "I was getting' all nervous and junk, especially when I thought of you. Still, in a funny way, I liked the way I was feeling, so I wanted to hang out with you more and more."   
  
"What…what are you saying…?" Her eyes were going wider by the second, and her heart threatening to break out of her chest. Her mouth hung open in disbelief as all of her hidden fears suddenly manifested themselves in this spike-haired man.   
  
(No. This can't be happening…)   
  
"Trunks and I were talking earlier," Goku continued on, ignoring Bulma's torment. "He was saying all this stuff about love, and how 'the feelings could grow.' He said a lot of stuff about you and me, too. It was all very strange, but, in it's own way, everything made sense. Because when I thought about it," His cheeks suddenly adopted a red hue. "I realized that's pretty much how I feel about you."   
  
Goku nervously put his hand behind his head. "So…" he took a moment to gather up his words. "I guess you could say I lo…"   
  
"No!" Bulma burst out, interrupting him. "You can't tell me this!"   
  
"Bulma, what…" Goku appeared shocked by this, and eased his shoulders away from her. "I was just…"   
  
"Shut up!" She snapped, rising from her seat. "You're with Chichi! I'm with Vegeta! Don't tell me you love me when it's already too late! Don't do that to me!" She crushed her hands into frusterated fists, fighting off the tears that were already stinging her eyes.   
  
"But…" Goku lowered his head. "After all our adventures, I thought…that'd you'd feel the same way…"   
  
"Yes! No! I don't know!" Bulma spit out several answers, each one contradicting the others, She was a hopeless mess, and had no idea what to say to Goku. Every wall that she had set up had crumbled down.   
  
"It... doesn't matter anyway!" she finally got out through clenched teeth. "Once this trip ends, we're going our separate ways." She walked up to Goku, looking him straight in the eyes. "Don't you see?" she shouted out. "We're all grown up now! We can't waste our lives anymore on feelings that come out of the blue! Face reality, Goku! The adventure days are over!"   
  
Goku said nothing for a moment. Then, with a quietness almost foreign to him, he asked her: "You don't want to travel with me anymore?"   
  
Bulma didn't answer this, but only walked to the torn doorway, away from Goku. "The bottom line is that we live in two different worlds." Her voice was almost a whisper, and a trace of a sob lay just beyond her words. "And it's time we return to them, and leave our childhood times behind."   
  
*****   
  
And, just like that, Bulma was gone.   
  
*****   
  
Author's Notes: Part 2 will be coming momentarily.   
  
Until next time, Ja ne! ^_^   



	12. Chapter 8, Part 2

  
Dragon Ball: Makafushigi Adventure   
  
By Reid M. Haynes   
  
Disclaimer: Dragon Ball and all characters within are the property of Akira Toriyama, TOEI ANIMATION, and various other companies. I am using them without permission, and I am making no money off of them.   
  
Legend:   
( ) Denotes thoughts.   
  
Tale 8: It Gets Tough, Part 2   
  
*****   
  
Just like that, Bulma was gone.   
  
Goku was left alone for the second time that day. But this hurt far worse than Trunks' unexpected departure. It felt like someone had taken his heart and smashed it between closed fingers. It felt cold, and that wasn't just the draft breaking in through the broken wall. It was an intrinsic chill, a quiet, deathly icicle that prodded his emotions and penetrated any peace that existed within.   
  
"But..." Goku thought out-loud. "Trunks said...that she loved me too." A bittersweet taste was filling the emptiness in his soul. After all he had been through on this trip, Bulma had left again, maybe for the last time. The thrill of traveling with friends and learning new things was already establishing itself as a forgotten memory. Although now, it very well wouldn't matter if it happened at all.   
  
A sound woke Goku from his reverie, jerking his conscious out of his head. He looked around himself in confusion. He had completely lost track of time during his morbid contemplation. And, by the feel of the life energy emanating from the figure before him, he had lost touch with the world around him.   
  
Goku rubbed his eyes, and attempted to get a better look at his new visitor.   
  
And then reality hit him like a slap to the face.   
  
In front of him, perhaps no more than three feet away, was a young woman in a purple Chinese dress. Her black hair was wrapped into a small bun behind her head, and loose bangs shadowed her dark eyes.   
  
(Those dark eyes. They're so sad.) For the first time, Goku read her expression. (Sad with regret, and burdened with knowledge.)   
  
Yet still, she managed to keep a smile on her face, albeit a sad one. It was a loving smile, one with pride, and one with loneliness.   
  
"Hi, Goku," Chichi said.   
  
*****   
  
Five minutes later, the couple was seated in the den, the long table acting as a divider between them. Separated by this wooden wall, husband and wife sat estranged and in silence. On the table were two cups of hot tea, still steaming vibrantly and filling the space between them with a light haze.   
  
Goku sat quietly, staring at his wife with trepidation. Chichi was not looking at him, neither was she speaking with him. She just kept her eyes trained on her teacup, gazing at it like it was the only object she could possibly be concerned with. Periodically, she would bring the cup to her lips and take a long, quiet sip from the rim. When she did, a small wave of smoke would veil her features, clouding up his perception of her to the point where he could no longer make out her expression.   
  
All the while, the absolute quiet kept growing, creating a sense of death in the broken-down building. The torn walls of Vegeta's ire stood testimony to the darkness that was slowly growing in Goku's soul. And, although the sun shone brilliantly through the clouds, it did nothing more than cast a shadow over their forms, setting gloomy, despondant tones to their features.   
  
Yet Goku remained quiet, waiting until his wife was ready. Though he was rather tactless at times, he knew that he wouldn't be saying the first word. This would be her speech, and hers alone.   
  
And, somehow, he knew that she knew. About everything.   
  
A cold shiver ran though Goku's bones, though the room was warm enough. He still didn't touch his tea, but sat there lethargic, bearing the icy dread as best he could, though his eyebrow twitched compulsively.  
  
He was getting desperate. He wanted Chichi to say something to him, to yell at him, to slap him, anything but this torture she was giving him. Just quietly drinking her tea, as if this was just a normal meeting between husband and wife. As if nothing was wrong, nothing whatsoever.   
  
As if his entire world wasn't being torn before his very eyes.   
  
After a little bit more of eternity, Chichi finally placed the empty cup on the coaster, making a small clicking sound upon impact. She moved her left hand slowly to her right, overlapping them on the tabletop. Her eyes fluttered shut, and her features relaxed, as if in prayer. Her manner was totally serene and peaceful, and leaked no hidden animosity towards anyone. Totally introverted, like a monk sacrificing himself in honorable suicide.   
  
Finally, she pursed her lips, and let her words flow from her soul.   
  
"I guess it's really my fault," she said quietly. "Throughout our time together, I've been so selfish. I was never really satisfied with the flaws you had, so I kept trying to change you, mold you into my own image of what Son Goku should be like. I held you down, and I'm sorry for that."   
  
Goku said nothing to acknowledge her apology, and Chichi showed no acknowledgement of his confusion. Both of them stayed as they were, waiting for her to speak once more.   
  
"When we were children," she started up again. "Your charm had captivated me right from the beginning. That smile of yours, and your can-do attitude that could accomplish anything. But..." she took a short breath to calm her nerves. "...as time went on, your image was mutilated by my own fanciful dreams of what romantic life should be like. I was so blinded by my own misperceptions that I began to make up your personality almost from scratch, guided by the very little I knew and loved about you."   
  
"I treasured these mirages, building onto them over the years. My hopes kept growing, hopes that I would finally have the storybook romance I desperately wanted. So when we finally met again, I was determined to make you mine, and keep you forever." And finally she raised her head and opened her eyes, letting Goku see the tears stream from her face. "I never even stopped to consider that you didn't love me back."   
  
Goku had no idea what to say to her, to deny it, or actually agree with her. So he said nothing, and let her continue.   
  
"During the car trip over here, I had a lot of time to think, about the past, the present, and where our married life will take us. I was in search of truth and, for the first time, I took the blinds off my eyes, and let the world come to me as it truly was."   
  
"But it wasn't until I heard you talk with Bulma, that I knew what to do." She looked down at the empty teacup, searching for any last morsel of broth left in the container. "But now I do."   
  
Chichi's features hardened. A resolution grew on her face, the same resolution there when she first entered the Tenkaichi Budokai to win Goku's heart. A battle-ready hardness that could take as well as it could give, prepared for the hard knocks of combat.   
  
Then she forced out the words.   
  
"I release you."   
  
"What?" Goku stared at her wide-eyed. "Chichi, what are you saying?" he asked her, disbelieving.   
  
"I release you," she repeated, only this time her voice began to crack. "I realize now that I forced you into this marriage unwillingly. You never truly knew what you were getting into with me, but you agreed anyway out of your honor. So I'm protecting your honor...by letting you go."   
  
Her mouth turned upwards into a smile, but Goku could tell it was false. "You're free to roam the world at your desire and free to pursue the heart that loves you." The mask of calmness started to shatter, and a single tear fell down her cheek. "And the heart you love as well."   
  
Their was no question about who "the heart that loved him" was. Yet, there was no accusation in her voice. No anger, no denial, none of the reactions he expected out of Chichi. Just a sad acceptance of the unchanging truth. That Goku loved another.   
  
(So this is it) Goku closed his eyes. (We go our separate ways.)   
  
No anger, no denial.   
  
Just goodbye.   
  
"Chichi!" Goku leapt up over the table, knocking his teacup over the polished wood. In one quick stride he had reached the door, and caught Chichi's hand just as it was to grasp the knob. He quickly pulled her around to face him, and rested his own hands on her shoulders, forcing her to look him in the eye.   
  
"Goku...?" Her eyes lit up with surprise, and her shoulders moved back against his weight, though they did not resist his hold.   
  
"I'll change!" he suddenly screamed out, his eyes turning frantic. "I'll stop training so much, and I'll chew withmy mouth closed. I'll do things right this time! Please, Chichi!" -he clutched her shoulders harder, almost shaking her. "Just tell me what to do!"   
  
Chichi's retained her bewildered gaze for a moment more, then, her eyes started to mist over. With her irises gleaming, she rose her hand from her side and lay it to rest on Goku's chest. She opened her mouth jut a bit, and tilted her head upwards to his. As her eyes started to closed, they released a few spare tears left over, which twinkled through the air before pelting the floor, just as her lips met his.   
  
Goku was shocked by this contact, and also by the fierce electricity that saturated his own lips. Chichi's kisses were always unexpected, possibly because of how few they shared together. When she did land one on him, it made him feel uncomfortable, inclining him to bolt, or throw out some cheap excuse to get away.   
  
But Goku didn't resist this one at all. Instead, he slid his hand up her neck and intertwined it within her ebony locks. His other hand swirled around her waist and crushed it to his body. He returned her kiss with all the love he ever felt for her, breathing it into her mouth with an almost manic fervor, trying to make up for all the wrong he had done her in the past, and trying to show her that they could have a future.   
  
But whatever he was trying to prove with his kiss, it wasn't enough. And just as soon as it started, it was over.   
  
Chichi stepped back from Goku and against the doorframe, this time a real smile melted onto her face. "Thank you, Goku," she said, sniffling in spite of herself. "Thank you for showing me I was right about you." With her hand, she wiped her eyes free of teardrops. "You are truly the fairytale prince of my dreams." She turned around, and opened up the doorway. "But I am not your princess."   
  
Chichi walked out of the doorway, and the sunrays hit her form, illuminating it like a maiden's ghost. She traveled through the golden light at a normal pace, not too fast, not too slow, and reached the old family car.   
  
Goku looked at the vehicle, and saw an open travel bag in the backseat Though the top, he could see a variety of mementos protruding from it. There were a couple of family photos, some miscellaneous trinkets, even that old boomerang hat she had used as a child.   
  
All the items of any sentimental value, she had taken with her. It showed that, deep down inside, she had known that she wouldn't be returning with Goku.   
  
Then, Goku's gaze turned to the front seat. A young boy of twelve sat there, with spiky black hair cut close to his head. He had dark eyes, and tough looking features, though they didn't detract from his good-natured disposition. Right now, his eyes were staring at his mother, who was opening up the car door. When the door shut, the boy turned his head, and moved his focus to the man waiting just beyond the Capsule House's doorframe.   
  
Gohan locked eyes with his father for just a moment. In that moment, a thousand emotions flashed between the space separating them: disbelief, anger, confusion, vengeance...   
  
But in the end, it resigned itself to only one: regret.   
  
Goku's son looked at him for a moment more, then raised his hand in the typical Son family salute, a single drop rolling down his cheek.   
  
"Goodbye," he mouthed through the glass.   
  
The engine of the car started to rumble slowly, then sped up quicker and quicker. Slowly, the wheels of the vehicle started to rotate, moving it ever so slowly away from the Capsule House, towards the mountain road leading off into the rest of the world.   
  
Goku caught the gaze of his wife and son one more time in the rear-view mirror. Their eyes were filled with silent messages, and he could tell that they were watching his eyes as well.   
  
For one more moment, Goku stared at Chichi and Gohan.   
  
Then, the car bolted off onto the dirt road, moving faster and faster by the second. It got smaller and smaller, until   
Goku could no longer make out the passengers. Soon, it was nothing more than a pinprick on the landscape, and soon it melted into the crisp blue, horizon.   
  
Then, it was gone.   
  
*****   
  
Fifteen minutes past, Goku was still staring at that mountaintop where his family had disappeared. He stood perfectly still, not moving an inch from where he stood watching them go. He squinted his eyes, trying to imagine the last image he had of his wife and son, but found that it was fading fast, like the faces of many people. Still he persisted, trying to keep their memory alive.   
  
And when the image finally left him, the rush of emotions hit him all at once. An unbelievable pain hit him straight in the gut, maximizing the bruises Vegeta had dealt him only a half-hour ago. Bulma's departure jolted into his head, and he was forced to watch her leave again and again. Chichi's sad yet yielding eyes as she stepped aside. And Gohan's silent farewell, a million emotions all poured into one word.   
  
"Goodbye."   
  
The overwhelming tide surged within him. It sparked like live wire, electrocuting his arms, sending slow spasms through his muscles. It was uncontrollable, all dominating.   
  
So Goku did the only thing he could. He let go.   
  
"Damn it!" he yelled, and rammed his fist straight into a nearby boulder. The rock shattered into a million shards of graphite, crackling against his body harmlessly. Pulling the shaking hand away, he moved towards another other boulders, and smashed that one too. And the one sitting next to it. And the one behind that one.   
  
"Dammit, dammit, dammit, dammit, DAMN IT!" With a livid rage, Goku continued his rampage, destroying any obstacle in sight. He ripped up a tree stump and crushed it between his palms. He took a bush and burnt it with a ki blast. Every act of destruction yielded another obscenity from him as let loose all the frustration that had built up within him.   
  
Minutes passed, and Goku had demolished every large object in the plain. But he couldn't stop, he felt just the same. "Everything is gone..." he said, his voice fluctuating wildly. "Everything..." His hand pulled out Nyoibo, twisting it horizontally. With its customary red flash, the staff stretched one-meter left and right.   
  
Goku grasped Nyoibo with two hands.   
  
"Everything...is GONE!!!"   
  
And with a cry, he brought the rod crashing toward his knee, snapping it in two. He swung his arm crazily and let go, sending one of the segments careening towards the ground. He then repeated the process with the other one, flinging it close by its brother.   
  
"rrrRRRAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!" The bloodcurdling scream was that of an animal, tearing its way out of his throat with an insane fervor. Goku's eyes were unfocused and lacked all lucidity, glazed over with mind numbing self-hatred. For that moment, he was truly nothing more than a beast.   
  
After that moment, he crashed to the ground. His knees broke his fall by a fraction, and kept Goku's face from burying itself in the dirt. But it didn't matter anyway, for he lowered his head anyway. His breathing was ragged, and his throat was sore from the hollering. He coughed twice, staring at the grass.   
  
Then he noticed something. The ground beneath his eyes was becoming muddy, with small pools of liquid forming on the dirt between the grass blades. He blinked, and then caught the image of a single drop of water falling onto the plain, embedding itself into the soft earth, where it would remain.   
  
(Are those…my tears?)   



	13. Chapter 9, Part 1

  
Dragon Ball: Makafushigi Adventure   
  
By Reid M. Haynes   
  
Disclaimer: Dragon Ball and all characters within are the property of Akira Toriyama, TOEI ANIMATION, and various other companies. I am using them without permission, and I am making no money off of them.   
  
Legend:   
( ) Denotes thoughts.   
  
Tale 9: In Too Deep, Part 1   
  
*****   
  
The dull sunset burnt the sky overlooking a mid-sized city somewhere in the West. Like stone monoliths, the street lamps hung over the darkened road; it was not quite dark enough for the extra light. The buildings stood quietly adorning each side, with windows lit for the folks sheltered within. Since many of the people were at home enjoying supper, the road was all but abandoned, populated by only a few stray cars.   
  
So the lone stranger had the road and the night completely to himself. He was a tall man, with strong features built for athletics, though he moved at a normal pace. Long spiky bangs shadowed his face, creating a mask for his features. His hands were sunk in his pockets, and his posture was broken and weak, barely enough to walk with.   
  
But, by the manner he carried himself, walking was all he seemed to want to do. His aura held not a spark of life, and his head hung down. He kept up the same not fast-not slow pace, so perfectly balanced that it was haunting. Like some sort of a zombie, enchanted by some ethereal force to do one thing and one thing only.   
  
Walk.   
  
And with no cars obstructing his path, walk he did, and walk he continued to do, as the sky drew darker and darker.   
  
Several minutes passed this way.   
  
Then, one by one, each of the streetlights popped on, affixing circles of light to the area they oversaw. Alternating, the left and right lights blinked on, working steadily to illuminate the silent town little by little.   
  
In a minute, they moved passed the intersection and continued onward, towards the road that the stranger was walking. They repeated their task of sequential illumination, left right left right, much like the man that they traveled with. Or pursued, for it seemed that they were catching up with him. Little by little, the distance between the man and the mechanisms were shortening. Thirty yards, then ten, five, and before long they had passed him and carried through, leaving behind the form of a young martial artist, with dark hair, taut muscles, and the saddest eyes you could possibly find.   
  
Son Goku wandered through the city, alone in his haze of thought. With distant eyes, he navigated the streets mechanically, barely acknowledging the corners he turned. His footfalls were soft and quiet, yet he felt every step he took like a pendulum against his heart.   
  
Having changed out of his gi back at the Capsule House, Goku was dressed in simple street clothes: a jacket, jeans, and sneakers. Materials that, although comfortable enough, were too heavy for combat. But it suited him just fine; he didn't feel much like a fighter anymore.   
  
The only articles that still remained on him from the morning were Sushinchu, and the sheath that harbored his broken Nyoibo, which clanked with every step he took. Small comfort, for they acted more as reminders of his failure than any sort of security from it.   
  
Chichi was gone.   
  
Gohan was gone.   
  
And Bulma…well…she was probably gone too.   
  
He had lost everything. Every element of his life had been torn asunder. All that he took for granted had taken flight.   
  
Step by step, Goku moved on through the urban lights with uneasy placidity, if such an emotion was possible. So wound up in his own thoughts that he didn't even care where he was walking. And since there was no cars coming, he just walked in the middle of the street, treading the yellow lines carefully, not that he was really trying.   
  
He knew that he had been ignoring Chichi, in favor of his training and his vigilance over the planet's life. But he didn't know that he had been ignoring his own feelings. Being too caught up in one affair after another, he hadn't noticed the itch that had sprung up in him, until the Dragon Ball trip jolted his systems.   
  
He had suddenly become aware of how he felt about Bulma. Of how Chichi felt about that.   
  
But it was too little, too late. Now he had to face up to the consequences.   
  
"It's my fault," Goku whispered into the darkness, closing his eyes in shame. It was his fault. If only he had known all of this sooner, he could've sorted it all out. He'd have told Yamcha to take his Dragon Ball hunt and shove it up his ass. He'd had stayed with Chichi, and tolerated all of her nitpicking and anxieties. He'd have taken Gohan fishing.   
  
Or would he have gone on the trip all the same?   
  
Goku slammed his hand against his jeans, biting his lip in a low growl. After all of this damn walking, he still didn't know what to think. His entire center was screwed up; he had no idea what he was even doing here! His wife was gone, his life was gone, it was all his fault, and he was still no step closer to solving anything.   
  
The sound of muffled voices emitted from his left. Goku looked up then to find he had wandered into the residential sector, comprised mostly of small, affordable condo that lined either side of the street. Most of them had turned off their lights for the night.   
  
But one apartment was still lit, distinguishing the two shadows inside. They moved lithely, still full of energy even with the sun setting on them. Both of them were quite caught up in something, and they were making enough noise to be heard outside.   
  
To Goku, though, it was a saving grace. Quickly, he strode down the walkway, and leapt over the steps leading to the "Welcome" mat. With his fist, he pounded on the doorway, sighing in relief. Maybe there was still one person that could help him.   
  
(C'mon, Kuririn, answer…)   
  
*****   
  
A short man in his late twenties placed a small porcelain pot back underneath the table he had finished cleaning. He then used his feather duster to wipe the grime from a coffeepot, a plastic poodle, and a sculpture of Karin the Cat. After that, he placed the duster on the table and prepared to give the room a good spray, realizing midway that he had misplaced his aerosol somehow. Putting one hand to his chin, he used the other to scratch his head, trying to remember where he put it.   
  
Then he lurched back, aghast in panic. On his scalp grew a strange, moss-like substance that frayed out in all directions like a porcupine. It encased his skull in a half-orb, sucking up the nourishing air like a porcupine. And it would let none escape.   
  
The man sweated heavily, thinking quickly on how to eliminate this nemesis, before it drained his brain of all fluid and left him a dry corpse. Quickly, he summoned a small ball of ki into his palm, ready to blast it onto this intruder into his everyday. .   
  
And a moment later he stopped, letting the energy fizzle into nothingness. Then he slapped himself on the   
forehead.   
  
(Oh yeah,) He rolled his eyes at his own stupidity. (Hair.)   
  
Kuririn slumped down in the easy chair, exhausted from his burst of hysteria. He sighed, and un-tucked his T-shirt from his jeans, letting the fabric drape over his mildly muscled form. He rested his head against the cushioned back of the chair, and closed his heavy eyes.   
  
He was a far cry from the seedy-eyed punk that had left Orin Temple all those years ago. More, he was quite different from the nervous young man that had stood up to the fiercest foes in the galaxy. Kuririn had become saggy and soft, like a nose-less pincushion. Oh sure, he still had quite a bit of muscle left over from his fighting days, but it had become miniscule compared to the super-human fitness of his youth.   
  
He had become a normal human.   
  
"Hey, you lazy bum," A tough, yet feminine voice sounded from the hall. "Aren't you through?" Kuririn opened his eyes to a pert young woman standing in the hall. She had short blond hair, piercing blue eyes, and a can of aerosol in her grasp.   
  
(Of course,) He let a smile perk up on his face. (Being normal ain't all bad.) "Just a second, Ju-chan," he said, moving from his chair. "I'm almost done."   
  
Juuhachigou groaned, closed her eyes, and sprayed a light mist from the aerosol. "There," she grunted, placing the can hard on top of the television set. "Once again, I've done the work, so you can relax." She opened her eyes and rolled them theatrically.   
  
"Heh heh…!" Kuririn chuckled nervously, a sweatdrop rolling off his temple. (Guess she's in one of her moods again.) he secretly thought to himself. (Been getting them a lot more often, too. What is with women?)   
  
Juuhachigou approached him. "Forget it," she said, dismissed his worries. She sat down in the armchair facing him. "Sit down. We need to talk."   
  
Kuririn stalled for a moment, wondering what on earth was bothering her. But upon seeing the seriousness of her expression, he decided he'd ask questions later. So he sat back down in the easy chair slowly, rested his palms on the arms, and waited patiently for his wife to start.   
  
Only it didn't look like she was ever going to start. Juuhachigou was looking down, rubbing her hands distractedly. Her face was unreadable, but Kuririn could see in those eyes of hers a certain fear welled up within. Something was eating her, and it was grating against her emotions bad.   
  
(Ju-chan's never this caught up in herself unless it's something really important) Kuririn looked at her, trying to pick out her feelings from plain eyesight. (I wonder what's up?)   
  
Finally, Juuhachigou glanced up, a bit hesitantly. "I'm not sure what it is." she stalled for a moment, looking at her lap once again. "But I've been having strange feelings lately. I'm getting hungry mere hours after my last meal, and every minute I feel like I want to rush to the supermarket and get more food. Pretty funny for me, since before last year I'd never ate a single thing in my life."   
  
Kuririn nodded laconicly, prompting her to continue. Juuhachigou took this cue in stride and continued without a loss in flow.   
  
"It's always the strangest foods, too." She waved her hand conversaytionally. "Odd combinations that I'd normally find disgusting I'd suddenly develop a craving for. Like…say…peanut butter and clam chowder. Stuff like that. I tell you, it's…"   
  
"Oh Kami!" Kuririn suddenly jumped out of his seat, sending the easy chair rocking back and forth without him. "Of course! This explains everything!"   
  
"Huh?" Juuhachigou went wide eyed, a strange expression for her normally stone- cold face to handle. "What are you…"   
  
"Woo hoo!" Kuririn cheered with glee, bounding over to her with a skip in his step. He quickly pulled the startled woman to her feet and began to dance; something in between a waltz and the jitterbug, though he wasn't aware of this. "This is great! This is fantastic!"   
  
"Wha…" The confused Juuhachigou stammered, trying desperately to keep up with her husband's wild maneuvers before they both went crashing to the floor. "Kuririn-kun, what…?"   
  
"Finally, after all this time!" Kuririn persisted with his crazy dancing, spinning around in a dizzy whirlwind of joy. "All my dreams are coming true! Whee…!"   
  
"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU BABBLING ABOUT?!" Juuhachigou hollered at the top of her lungs, throwing Kurirn off of her, who fell to the carpet with a plop. She folded her arms, putting on the most cross scowl she could compose.   
  
But this didn't cut off his smile as he quickly leapt back to his feet with old martial arts reflexes. With the same wide-eyed glee in his eyes, he told her the news.   
  
"We're going to have a baby!"   
  
"w-w-w-WHAT!?" Juuhachigou jerked backwards in horror, as if Kuririn has just told her that an intestinal parasite has crawled up her bowels. Her right heel knocked into the table, sending little Karin tumbling onto the carpet with a dull thud.   
  
She stood rigid in place, facing the other with a look of astonishment in her face. "What on earth is a baby?!"   
  
For a moment, Kuririn looked at her as if she was an idiot. Then he smiled with realization. "Oh yeah, the android thing!" he laughed good-naturedly. "Here, let me explain." He led her over to the couch and sat her down. Then he sat down beside her and turned to her, taking a brief breath before speaking.   
  
"When a man and women get…physically involved," Kuririn explained cautiously, a bit like a parent educating a child. "a special thing happens. A seed is planted within that special woman, and this seed starts to make her tired."   
  
"Tired?" Juuhachigou's eyes got huge, which the short man ignored completely, continuing on.   
  
"Later on, as the seed grows, the woman starts to...um…get a little fat around the middle." He stuttered a bit, trying to break the truth as gently to her as possible. "For you see, something is maturing within her."   
  
"Fat?" Her eyes got a notch wider.   
  
"And later, much later, after about nine months, a glorious thing happens." Kuririn sighed rapturously. "The woman goes thought a process known as labor, and when it's over, a beautiful boy or girl is produced."   
  
"You mean…" Juhachigou gaped in dismay. "…some 'thing' is going to crawl out of my…"   
  
"Hey, it's not that bad!" Kuririn stood up. "In fact it's the most wonderful thing that could happen to us. Just think about it, Ju-chan. I'm going to be a father." Kuririn slumped back onto the couch, emotionally exhasted. "If only Goku could see me now..."   
  
Kuririn looked back at his wife, and was saddened by what he saw. Instead of happiness, Juhachigou's face was wrought with shock and bafflement, as if she was totally opposed to the very idea of pregnancy.   
  
He sighed forlornly. It was clear where Ju-chan stood on this issue. "You know…" he struggled to get out the words. "You don't have to keep this child if you don't want to. I mean…it's all your choice." He lowered his head. "You do what you feel is right."   
  
Juuhachigou looked at the defeated expression on Kuririn, and her face soffened. "I'm sorry, Kuririn-kun," she said, putting an arm around his shoulders. "It's just that this is all so new. Being an Artificual Human dosen't leave you much in the way of sex ed, you know."   
  
"Yeah, I know," Kuririn nodded slowly, still feeling depressed. Juuhachigou closed her eyes a moment, sorting out the pluses and minuses inside her head,   
  
When she had come to a concencus, she looked back at him with conviction.   
"Okay, let's do it," she said, a confident smile on her face.   
  
"Ju-chan…" Kuririn's eyes filled with hope, a slow grin daring to burst onto his lips.   
  
"Let's have a kid," she repeated. "I can tollerate being a vegetable for a little while. I mean, who knows?" That flamiliar eager spark twitched in her crystal irises. "It might be fun!"   
  
"That's…" Kuririn's arms encircled the woman. "…that's awesome, Ju-chan! That's…"   
  
"On one condition," Juuhachigou delicatly removed herself from her husband's embrase, putting her stubborn shell back on.   
  
"Huh…what?" Kuririn asked her carefully, desperately clinging onto his hopes. "You name it, Ju-chan, and it's yours. Anything!"   
  
"Well…" Slowly, Juuhachigou snaked an arm around Kuririn's neck, kneeding the soft flesh leading up and around his cranium. "Since I'm going to be an invalid for the next couple of months, it'd be important for me to get my kicks in while I can, so…" A mischivious smirk perked on her lips, vaugely carnavorious in nature, as she closed in on him.   
  
Kuririn looked up at his wife with a sence of danger in his heart. Already she had crawled in his lap, and her lips were "You know, Ju-chan," Kuririn said, with a giddy sort of nervousness. "This might lead to even more children…"   
  
"C'mon, midgit boy," she cooed rapturously, running her hand through his newfound hair. "Let's get 'physically involved.' Of course, I'll be on top, as always."   
  
And as her lips touched his, Kuririn could think of only one thing: He had better still have some strength left over from his fighting days. Because this night, he was going to need it!   
  
*****   
  
Goku sadly walked away from Kuririn's condo, his hands within his pockets once more. The Nyoibo segments clinked in tandem with his footsteps, heartbeats, and heartbreaks. His black locks rolled in the twilight breeze, the strands agitating his tear-strung eyes. Fitting.   
  
He came to another intersection, about thirty meters from the apartment complex. The traffic light was green for the moment, allowing the non-existent cars to bypass the intersection. And since the cars were non-existent, the curb was safe from any potential hazards.   
  
The light's signal switched to yellow, and Goku slowly approached the curb site. Not bothering to check for any oncoming vehicles, he lowered himself to the concrete, setting his feet clumsily onto the ashen pavement. He situated and positioned himself, making sure he would be comfortable enough on the hard ledge.   
  
And as the light turned red, Goku rested his closed hands on his cheekbones, his elbows on his sides, and his chin in his chest, once again contemplating the strange turns his life continued to take.   
  
He had wondered why Kuririn refused to go on the Dragon Ball hunt. After all, he had as much of a stake in it as everyone else, certainly more than Trunks did. Now he knew: Kuririn didn't feel a need to reminisce about the past because he had a present, and a future to work and look forward to. He was happy; had no regrets.   
  
(Kuririn dosen't need me.)  
  
Why would he have regrets? He had a beautiful wife and a newborn child on the way. Sure, he was no longer the strong opponent capable of rivaling Goku; in fact, people had always believed Kuririn to be the weaker of the duo.   
  
But in truth, he was much stronger that Goku was, maybe more that Goku would ever be. He understood his heart. He found what he was looking for. He kept it.   
  
And Goku was alone.   
  
(Kuririn dosen't need me…)   
  
He looked for a moment back at the apartments just down the road, then quickly looked away again.   
  
(I won't screw up anybody else's life.)   
  
"Kuririn," Goku let his whispers drift from his lips into the silent wind. "You always wanted to be like me. But in the end, you were wiser than anybody gave you credit for. I wish…that I was like you…" He slumped back into his former position, drifting in his angst anew.   
  
Some unknown time later, the rumble of an engine was heard just beyond the curvature of the road. It must've been a long time, Goku mused, for it was already quite dark outside. Indeed, the headlight's beam pierced through the fog cleanly, cutting through the darkness like an exacto knife. It tilted upward with the topography, then ran lateral as the vehicle came into full view.   
  
Goku closed his eyes, trying his best to ignore the passerby. The last thing he needed was some dumb motorist to interrupt him from his sorrows with its annoying loud engine. His eyebrow twitched as he heard the transport approach his curb.   
  
Then slowly, the deafening noise muffled to a low purr. Goku felt the afterwash of wind coat his form, sending his hair and jacket flowing with it. The smell of exhaust touched his nostrils, and his tongue tasted the bitter smoke emitted from the pipes.   
  
Then he heard a voice.   
  
"Hey there."   
  
Goku jerked with recognition at the voice and looked up. Perched upon a large motorcycle was a young woman, with curly blond hair that rolled down her body with a full look to it. A red bandanna was tied onto her crown, giving the girl a bandit-like appearance, as did the large sack of bills tossed over her shoulder.   
  
Her eyes were slim and narrow, accustomed to peeking behind the wall for any troubles.   
  
But her mouth greeted him with a sly, yet sweet smirk. Sarcastic and sympathetic at the same time.   
  
"Need a lift?"   
  
*****   
  
Author's Notes: Part 2 will be coming momentarily.   
  
Until next time, Ja ne! ^_^   



	14. Chapter 9, Part 2

  
Dragon Ball: Makafushigi Adventure   
  
By Reid M. Haynes   
  
Disclaimer: Dragon Ball and all characters within are the property of Akira Toriyama, TOEI ANIMATION, and various other companies. I am using them without permission, and I am making no money off of them.   
  
Legend:   
( ) Denotes thoughts.   
  
Tale 9: In Too Deep, Part 2   
  
*****   
  
The city lights streaked into a montage of rainbow strokes, which melded together into a blur of pure color. Road lines darted forward into a semi-sequence of reflective gold, guiding all motorists onward to a vibrant nighttime skyline. The mountains of building mirages winked with their busy, never-sleeping life, needling into the misty urban eve like a grand tapestry meant only for giants.   
  
Lunch's motorcycle carried Goku and her down the highway in speeds exceeding 100 kph. It moved faster and faster, burning a trench of rubber on the street behind the back tire. It swerved and swooped down hairpin turns as its driver operated it with the skill of the pro bike racers.   
  
As the world went by, Goku's face flashed with the town's neon lights: blue, red, green, aqua. Resting his arms on the edge of the passenger car, he watched the streaks with an unreadable expression, eyes picking off each color individually. They found hoards of buildings upon buildings, each with its own personality, although blending with neighbors.  
  
But soon the buildings grew sparser and sparser, as mountains and countryside took its place. The motorcycle was approaching the outskirts of the city, where large expanses of fields could be viewed and glorified by means of the cliff that oversaw them. It was a truly lonely sight.   
  
Despite this, Lunch stared at it with soft happiness, her blue hair waving in the wind ethereally. Her eyes were innocent and pure, rivaling Goku's during his peaceful times. Her appearance was near perfect, excepting the small hue of red etching the rim of her nose. It was allergy season, after all.   
  
"So," she smiled, turning to the young man sweetly. "Did you want to talk about something?" The woman blinked innocently at him.   
  
"Not really," Goku said truthfully, neglecting to meet her eyes. He continued to stare at the stars quietly, very uncharacteristic of him, or so many might think.   
  
Yet Lunch only giggled airily. "Don't worry," she said, putting her hand on her cheek. "It's safe."   
  
Goku opened his mouth to refute her, but closed it after his thoughts caught up with him. He scratched his reason with a fingernail, then shrugged in resignation. What the hell, he thought. At this point, what did he have to lose?   
  
So he told her everything. About the Dragon Ball hunt, about Bulma, about Vegeta and Trunks. About his forgotten family, even about Kuririn and Juuhachigou. When he was done, tears were pouring from his eyes. But now he was unabashed by them, and let them run off his face and onto the chrome detail of the bike, sending ripples across its maroon gloss.   
  
Lunch's head was lowered, her blond hair covering her face with a dull shadow. She rubbed her nose a few times from a recent sneeze, sniffling a bit before fully catching her breath.   
  
Then she socked Goku across the face.   
  
"You idiot!" Lunch screamed at him, hitting him again with a vicious backhand. "You infantile moron! How could you be so stupid!?"   
  
"Ow!" Goku rubbed his reddening cheek, an irritated frown on his mouth. "What was that about!?" He growled, his old spirit making a brief comeback.   
  
"I can't believe you!" she growled at him, plugging her pointer to the tip of his nose. "Crying and whining like a little baby, because you royally screwed up your entire life. How dare you!?"   
  
"That's not fair!" Goku protested, outraged. "I tried to keep Chichi and Gohan from going! I tried…"   
  
"You haven't done jack!" Lunch cut off his excuses harshly. "You just sat there while everything passed you by, just like that city over there." She pointed at the town behind her. "Look at that, Goku," she said coldly, motioning to the buildings. "Life happening all around you. Life you've ignored by being too naïve about your own damn feelings! Fool! I oughta…oughttaaa…aaa…aaaaahhhHHHHHH…CHO!" With a musical twing, the vixen's golden hair reverted back to blue, and the shady eyes widened into those reflective pearls again.   
  
Lunch looked bewildered at Goku's angry expression, but only for a moment, for soon she broke into hysterical laughter. "Whoops!" She put her hand to her mouth, stifling her hoots. "Did it again!"   
  
Goku looked a bit astonished by this little demonstration of schizophrenia, but quickly regulated his facial expression once he gained control of himself.   
  
"Look, Goku," Lunch placed a gentle hand on Goku's shoulder, who flinched at the gesture, but didn't refuse it. "I know how you feel. I mean, I've been naïve too about a lot of things, and I don't always…pick up on everything so fast…" She looked a bit bashful at this admission, yet she continued her speech without too much hesitation. "After all, I've had the hardest time trying to catch up to Tenshinhan to tell him how I feel. But I've never found the right time."   
  
"But I won't give up!" A determined look grew within her pupils. "I know that someday, I'll finally catch up to him, and then I'll work up that nerve and courage and give it my all! I won't rest until then. And neither should you."   
  
Goku was dumbfounded, shocked completely out of his depression. In all the years he had known Lunch, he had never seen her with such a serious attitude. She really believed in what she was doing, and she believed in him.   
Goku rose from the bike trailer, and gave Lunch the first smile he had felt this day. "Thanks, Lunch," he said, stepping out of the car. "I think you've helped me a bit."   
  
Lunch blinked a few times. "Leaving?" she asked, turning to him. "Already?"   
  
When she saw Goku's subtle nod, she relaxed in submission. "Well, as long as you're going, tell me if you see Tenshinhan," she called out to him. "I really need to see him…"   
  
A breeze, a sneeze, and a lass to a sleaze.   
  
"…'cause I want to wring his scrawny neck!" she finished up with a low growl, shaking her fist with vigor.   
  
Goku just smiled at the girl's quirks, and raised his hand. With a twitch of the eyebrow, he gave her the classic Son salute. And then, with a step that was a tad lighter than before, he was off towards the wilderness and the mountains and who knows where.   
  
Lunch watched him go, the scowl still on her face. Slowly, though, as she watched the young man go, she let a rare smile penetrate into her normally negative self.   
  
"Good luck, kid," she said quietly to him.   
  
Then the sound of police sirens filled her ears. "Damn!" she cursed, shaking herself out of her sentimentality and revving her engine. With a burst of exhaust, she shot off from the cliff side and back to the city, ready to give the fuzz a merry chase.   
  
*****   
  
For what seemed like decades for him, Son Goku journeyed all over the world, stopping at strange little spots he somehow held dear to his heart. His pace was quite normal to him, yet he moved in a dimension that few could possibly dream of. The dimension beyond light, where speed was so fast that neither man nor time could catch up with him. He was a phantom, an apparition none could see, unless he willed it.   
  
Mountains melted into rivers, into forests, into deserts, and back to mountains again. But he didn't stop. He just kept walking and walking and walking…  
  
*****  
  
At a native village in the Karin region, villagers bustled about in their ceremonial costume, preparing whatever rituals were dear to them. They were hardworking sorts, and let their sweat flow freely from their skin. Their faces held strain for the labor ahead, but they were happy, so he left them alone.   
  
Two brown-skinned men sat by a fireside, poking at it with long twigs. The first one, a buff man with silver hair tied back into a ponytail, held a gruff expression on his face as the fire started to dwindle. The other, a lean muscled youth with tiny eyes, kept a determined expression on his face as he continued to stoke the fire, albeit with little success.   
  
But just as the young man began to lose hope, a small spark appeared in the limbs. Excited, he quickly prodded it more, and suddenly a huge blaze roared out of the formerly cold embers. Warmed by this sudden outburst, the man looked victoriously at his elder, only to find a proud smile on his grizzled face, as if he had known he'd be able to start the flame all along.   
  
The two warmed themselves, and enjoyed each other's presence.   
  
Son Goku smiled sadly, then moved on.   
  
*****   
  
Mountains to rivers, rivers to forests, forest to deserts, deserts to mountains. A young man toured the Four Corners of earth, hoping for something to end his search.   
  
Step, step, step, step…   
  
*****   
  
At a little known hamlet called Penguin Village, all was at peace. The sun flexed its muscles, the pigs flew, and the birds cheerily called out: "Asshole!" at the happy towns-folk. Just another typical day in the mind of an insane artist.   
  
A red ball rolled to his feet, which he stopped with the toe of his sneaker. Scooping it under his arm, he waited for its owner to receive the missing object. Soon, a purple haired girl with huge glasses approached him, dashing forward like a berserker on a caffeine high. With bright eyes, she held out her hands for her ball, which he promptly delivered to. Burbling her thanks, she went on back to her friend: a shorthaired boy with glasses that matched hers.   
  
The two laughed happily, and enjoyed each other's presence.   
  
Son Goku smiled wistfully, then moved on.   
  
*****   
  
Mountains to rivers, rivers to forests, forest to deserts, deserts to mountains. A young man toured the Four Corners of earth, hoping for something to end his search.   
  
Step, step, step, step…   
  
*****  
  
And then, finally, he stopped.   
  
He was on a nameless prairie, much like the one he had left Bulma and the others at. It was fairly non-distinctive, but featured a couple of round boulders embedded deep in the dirt and grass. On this prairie, it was around morning, and the sun was rising in a slow fog.   
  
"I say there, sir," A slow, methodical voice rumbled from one of the stones. "Do you need a break?"   
  
Goku looked over at the rock, which seemed able to talk. Then he took a double take, and chuckled. "Hey there, Turtle," he said in greeting, walking over to the 'rock.' "Taking a vacation from the old timer's hut?"   
  
Turtle smiled. "But of course," he said, with the same polite-yet-cynical voice he had acquired while dealing with the Muten Roshi's various jaunts. His smile faded, however, when he caught the falsity in Goku's grin. "Excuse me for saying so," he started smoothly. "…but to be perfectly frank, you seem to be in an awful fix."   
  
"Feh," Goku smirked bitterly. "You can say that again." He paced back and forth on the field, his arms crossed. "Everything's gone to hell, Turtle," he said sadly. "My entire life has been torn to shreds, and I have no way to fix it."   
  
"My word…" The normally reasonable tortoise was wide with shock at seeing the master of solutions backed into a corner with no way out.   
  
"Yeah." he snorted, wrinkling his nostrils in an irritated motion.   
  
Turtle closed his eyes for a moment, then quickly opened them, with an idea immersed inside them. "Well, there is little I can offer you in ways of solutions," he said. "…but right now, I may provide to you a good ear and a good seat."   
  
"Huh?" Goku asked.   
  
"My shell provides but an ounce of protection, it's true, but it should serve as a stool for your purposes." Turtle moved slowly to the martial artist. "Sit down, old chap, and let's hear your tale of woe."   
  
Goku was about to turn him down, but then he realized that he could use a good rest about now, what with all the walking he had done. So he moved over to the reptile, lowered his haunches, and took his seat.   
  
*****   
  
After a good fifteen minutes, Goku had completely finished telling his "tale of woe," as Turtle referred to it. This time, he was not so teary eyed, having gotten accustomed to hearing the grim truth, at least on one level. It had become more like a distant fact, rather then a blatant reality, and could be shut away temporarily with the detachment one gets when exposed to tragedy.   
  
Turtle listened to all of this with an open mind, calmly nodding his head in response to Goku's sufferings. "Indeed," he agreed, taking a moment to munch on the dry grass. "Truly, you are at the bottom of your rope." Having decided that it wasn't much like seaweed after all, he spit the grass stems into the dirt, thoroughly disgusted. He was a gourmet, after all.   
  
"So that's it," Goku stared onto the clouds above. "Bulma is gone, Chichi is gone, and Gohan probably hates me…"   
  
"Gohan wouldn't hate you," The tortoise said firmly, glancing up at the man sitting on his back. "He loves you. He will always stand by you."   
  
"But Chichi is gone," Goku affirmed with his friend.   
  
Turtle sighed. "Yes, she is gone," he said softly, but raised his head with confidence. "However, I believe that what you are truly looking for may be within your grasp. If you reach for it."   
  
"What?" Goku raised his eyebrows, and looked at him curiously. "What I'm truly…looking for?"   
  
"If you wish me to tell you what you seek, that I may not answer," The turtle shook his head." However, I may lead you in the correct direction, if you want."   
  
"Right direction…?" he pondered.   
  
"There is an old saying passed down by wise men," Turtle said. "'Whenever there is a future that is filled with questions, it's best to look in the past for the answers.'"   
  
Goku's eyes suddenly grew to the size of dinner plates, and he was suddenly struck with a revelation. He now knew where he could go to have peace of mind.   
  
"Do you understand, Son Goku?" the turtle asked him.   
  
"…yes, I think I do," Goku's eyes were even clearer than before. Quickly, he leapt off Turtle's back and hit the turf, looking up at the sky once more. He started in the direction of the sun, then stopped and said: "Thanks."   
  
"Where are you off to now?" the tortoise asked.   
  
Goku looked back over his shoulder. "I've got one more place I have to visit," he said. Then, he was gone.   
  
The Turtle smiled. "Good day," he said.   
  
*****   
  
And then Son Goku went to his final destination.   



	15. Chapter 10

  
Dragon Ball: Makafushigi Adventure   
  
By Reid M. Haynes   
  
Disclaimer: Dragon Ball and all characters within are the property of Akira Toriyama, TOEI ANIMATION, and various other companies. I am using them without permission, and I am making no money off of them.   
  
Legend:   
( ) Denotes thoughts.   
[ ] Denotes song lyrics.   
  
Note: This chapter features a brief song fic section, set to the awesome "Spirit Vs. Spirit." If you are not familiar with the tune, please find a place to download it from, as this will make the chapter will be much more enjoyable.   
  
Tale 10: Phoenix   
  
*****   
  
"Long, long ago, in a deep, dark forest far from civilizaion, beyond a towering mountain range of…well, you get the idea. It's the kind of place a story like this has to begin…"   
-Dragon Ball: Volume #1 (Viz Translation)   
  
*****   
  
Somewhere, deep in the East, a beautiful wilderness stretched across the land, untouched by the crippling claw of civilization. The river ran with fresh, sparkling water, perfect for the antelope that resided there to drink and bathe in. Pine trees dotted the forest path, adding a splash of green to the earthly colors of the land. And the landscape rose like camel humps, rising from the valleys to the clouds in the crystal blue sky.   
  
On the road leading to the ledge side, a young man treaded feet on a large wood-chunk, cut from an oak tree. Walking backwards, he manipulated his makeshift wheel like a circus performer would a ball, allowing both to navigate the rolling road to their ultimate destination: a distant pangona, surmounting the lovely countryside vigilantly and precariously.   
  
The man continued his tireless exercise, lazily rolling the wheel like it was just an everyday thing. In his grasp was a large hacksaw, presumably the one that slew the slab underfoot. His eyes were relaxed and unwary of the danger of attempting such a stunt. Then again, he had no reason to feel fear.   
  
A chirping perked from up in the treetops, and the man glanced to his side, curious about the disturbance. There, amist the leaves of the trees, were two monkeys, a mother and son, greeting the new arrival. The mother, with a smile on her face, hung on to a limb, lowering her tot carefully over the man's path. And the kid smiled gleefully, waving at him wildly, like a long lost friend come back at last.   
  
The man smiled mysteriously at his welcoming party, an odd chuckle in his throat. Shifting his saw appropriately, he raised his one free hand in greeting. "Hey," was all he said as the log passed by, leaving the two chimps behind, squealing and cheering after their visitor. But the man simply kept up his rheumatic walking, never losing a beat in this downhill slalom.   
  
Roll roll roll, the log moved down the pathway at it's own pace, leaving its passenger to keep up by his own power, which he did quite nicely. And soon, its steady course was coming to a close, for the trees started to part, and the sky started to shine. The hill grew smoother and smother until it leveled off at the cliffside, just as the house came from under its curvature.   
  
The man stalled a moment more on his steed, bracing his knees for a leap. Then he was head over heels, kicking backwards off the log and high into the air. His reverse somersault completed itself just as the toil of his labor lost balance, falling over again and again like a dropped coin.   
  
As the log spun to rest, the man took a deep breath, breathing in the fresh spring air like he hadn't tasted it for years. Smiling peacefully, he let the air exhale out of his mouth and back to nature. He took one more look at the house before him and closed his eyes, sealing the perfect picture forever in his mind. Then, his lips vibrated ever so slightly, uttering the one word that told of all his emotions about this exotic world.   
  
"Home."   
  
It was all he had left.   
  
*****   
  
Walking into the house of his grandfather, Goku placed his Nyoibo's sheath gently on the mantle, making sure both pieces stayed in. Lazily, he flung his jacket off and onto the empty bed frame. He kept his sneakers on, though; Grandpa was never that big on tradition.   
  
Then he flopped down on top of the mattress, crushing the vest from underneath. And looked up at the ceiling, the walls, and the various knickknacks that sparsely decorated the small house.   
  
The home hadn't changed at all since Goku had left it seventeen years ago. Everything had stayed where it was left when he had abandoned it for the last time, save the futon, which still rest with Kame Sennin, and of course Sushinchu, which still rest in his pocket.   
  
Of course, the house never really had much furnishing to begin with. Son Gohan was a very rural sort, and liked to keep things nice and simple. There was little to live out the room, just some clothes, fishing poles, and a stack of old hentai magazines, hidden nicely under the bed frame. He did have some things in common with his old master, after all, although he'd never let his grandson know it.   
  
Goku's eye caught on a magazine that was jutting out a bit from the others. Then he looked again, sweeping the article from under the bed. It wasn't a magazine at all; it was a chart diagramming all of the moves the old master had acquired in his life as a martial artist. Kamehameha, Jan-ken, even Sui-ken, it was all here in this tiny little packet. (Guess Gramps wanted to keep a record for reference.) he thought. (…or maybe it was just for me…)  
  
Deciding that it had become mixed in by accident, Goku set about placing the chart in the closet, where he supposed it should go. Opening it, he started rummaging around, looking for a similar stack where it might belong. He moved aside sake bottles and training uniforms before he finally a spot where it might fit in. But what he saw behind it made him drop the paper onto the floor.   
  
Behind the articles and the alcohol was a makeshift martial arts uniform: blue vest, blue pants, and a single strip of cloth to serve at a belt. It was a carbon copy of the very first gi Goku had ever received, only sized for a much more adult figure. Son Gohan must've been quite the giant in his youth, and the suit would probably fit his grandson just as well.   
  
"Beautiful…" Goku whispered to the inanimate clothing, in staggering awe. It was lightweight and yielding, unsuited for heavy body training, but perfect for everything else. Technique contriving, practice sparring, or just plain out fighting, it was a combatant's companion to the end. And unlike the gis he's normally wore, this one was just as suited to everyday life, as it put virtually no stress on the body,   
  
His hand inched towards the gi, very slowly and carefully. (I wonder…if I should try it out.) He reached for the belt.   
  
Then suddenly, over at the dresser, an alarm clock rang, sounding off his three-o-clock chores. Goku looked back to the exit, his hand jerking out of the closet. Why would the alarm clock still be running? The last time he has wound it was years ago, so it really made no sense.   
  
Shrugging, he walked over and clicked off the buzzer. Whatever caused the clock to go ballistic, it was just as well anyway. As long as he was here, he might as well try to fit in with his old routine. He didn't know how long he'd be staying here, and it would give him the sense of stability he needed.   
  
Goku walked back to the doorway, then he stopped and looked to the closet, where the kung fu outfit lay obscured in the shadows.   
  
(Funny, that kung fu suit looks brand new…) He stood there for a moment more, then walked out of the room.   
  
*****   
  
"Done," Goku dusted off his hands ritualistically as the last of the wood segments finished clattering into the neat, block formation. Not a single splinter pierced his palm from the wood slice, and his knuckle remained as smooth as ever, even after the oak cracking punch he had performed upon it.   
  
The man smiled in satisfaction at his handiwork. Still had the touch, after all this time. But his mirth was interrupted by a low rumbling deep within a dark, bottomless pit that no one dared to make entrance to.  
Goku sighed. Looks like his internal clock was working with his surrounding, as it was nearly dinnertime in this area of the world. Ah well, best to get started, before it got any later. A good meal would cheer him up, anyway. At least, that's what he told himself  
  
A few minutes later, Goku was traveling down the river trail, which led to the best fishing spot in the area. He looked towards the canopies. Abound him was a jungle like environment, complete with hidden shortcuts and high limb overpasses and vines perfect for swinging on. But he left them be, not feeling much like an adventurous romp today. Just a nice peaceful stroll in the forest, that was all he wanted right now.   
  
A growling sound was heard. But this time, it wasn't his stomach Goku whipped around at his aggressor, only to find…a rather silly looking sabertooth tiger, with soft fur and really dopey eyes, snarling away like it actually believed it was fearsome.   
  
Goku smirked in good humor, calmly walking up to it. The tiger increased his growling upon the human's closer proximity. But Goku slowly lowered his hand, palm down, to the monster's snout. "Relax, I'm a friend," he said, offering the animal a gentle smile.   
  
Suspicious at the man's bravery, the tiger sniffed at the hand a couple of times, trying to detect any dishonesty in his words. But it could find none. After several more sniffs, it lowered its guard and allowed the stranger within it's circle, sitting complacently and finally satisfied.   
  
Goku retracted his hand and started back toward the river again with an easy step. Moving from the tiger, he shouted over his shoulder: "Coming?" and slowly walked off. Goku kept walking, and smiled at the footsteps that followed with his. Certain that the beast could keep up, he increased his pace and made good time to the river.   
  
*****   
  
Atop the cliff, the tiger watched the man as he swan-dived nude into the rapid waters, disappearing beneath the ripples with a white splash. It watched with curiosity at who would dare to take down the monstrous fishes that thrived in the darks depths.   
  
The waters remained stagnant a minute more, than, in an explosion of water, Goku emerged flying from the pool, a gigantic fish in his grasp. He skied far above, turned a flip, and landed lightly on the ledge, upright and grinning with victory. He swung the fish underhanded, flung it into the air, and fried it with a energy blast, creating a smoked salmon just as it hit the ground.   
  
"Well, that's that," he said, turning to tiger. "Dig in," The tiger, having skipped lunch due to a lack of menu choices, was only too eager to comply, digging into it's soft belly with it's large insisors. Goku, being more elegant (just a little) than his primitive colleuge, opted to skin and clean his part of the catch first.   
  
As both of them munched on the fish, Goku decided to make smalltalk with his new friend. "So, how've you been, old guy?" he said, smacking on the tender meat. "The hunting good without me to chase around?" The tiger looked in confusion, trying to understand what this man was saying, but Goku just chuckled, and rubbed the cat on the head affectionately. "I thought so."   
  
Letting go of its head, he leaned down on the grass, propping his head up with his hands. "Yeah, things haven't been so swell for me either," he commented, while watching the clouds go "A buncht of things have passed me by, and those that I cared for have lost their patience with me..."   
  
Goku took another bite of his meal. "But in the end, it dosen't matter," He chewed softly. "Because at least we still have home to go to." He swallowed his mouthful. "And that's all I need."   
  
Goku fished in his pocket, and came out with a small, orange ball. "Isn't that right, Grandpa?" he asked it.   
  
The ball said nothing.   
  
*****   
  
As the sun sank behind the mountains, the martial artist and his pet walked the long way back to Son Gohan's house, with their bellies full and their spirits lifted.   
  
Goku felt content. For the first time in years, he had a place where he belonged. He could spend the rest of his days in the mountains, living off the land and training to his heart's content, just like he used to. Just a guy and his tiger, alone and in control. What else was there to life?   
  
The trees started to split again, letting the setting sun beams pour through the foliage. Goku walked through the light, with open eyes to the dirt road that lead home. He scanned the sky above, and decided that there was still light enough to get in some quick training. Smiling at the thought, he broke into a jog and started down the path.   
  
But he quickly jerked back when he saw a large cloud of smoke from beyond the hill. He focused in on it, and found it hid a small blue buggy, sporting the decal "TURBO" on its side. And in the driver's seat was…a girl of 16 with odd turquoise hair twirled in a high braid, who burst out with a look of panic at the man and the giant fish that he carried.   
  
"Bulma!" he called in shock, his eyes nearly bulging out of his skull. Then he quickly leapt to the side, in a mad dash to get out of her way, more for her sake than his.   
  
But Goku needn't have worried, for when he had scrambled back to his feat and looked back, Bulma and her car has vanished like the ghosts they were, disappearing back into the sealed confines of his imagination.   
  
Goku stared at the vanished illusion, his mouth open in disbelief. His gaze darted back the tiger, who looked at him strangely, wondering why the hell he was staring at empty space. Then, he shook his head back to reality, and released a disappointed sigh.   
  
For a moment, he almost thought she came back to get him.   
  
The martial artist and his pet walked the long way back to Son Gohan's house, with their bellies full and nothing else. Goku spirit had dropped back into the abyss, and the sad thing was, he didn't know why. And this made him angry.   
  
"What am I cryin' about?" he growled out loud to whoever cared to listen. "I got along just fine my entire life without her. Who needs some weird city girl to tag along and make everything confusing?"   
  
(You do.)   
  
Again, Goku jerked back at phantoms, scanning around for what dared to taunt him. He looks at the trees. He looked at the mountains. For a moment, he even stared at the tiger, then slapped himself at how stupid that was, even in a world of talking animals.   
  
(Then…was that my thought?) He tried his best to come to the proper confusion, scanning all possibilities thoroughly. But his mind was too emotionally charged to think properly, and in the end he gave up and walked the last few meters to his home.   
  
Opening the door, Goku walked into the house, but stopped when he felt a pressing against his jeans. He looked down and around to spy the tiger, trying to squeeze in between his leg. Goku smiled apologetically, gently pushing the cat's maw out of the doorframe. "Sorry, pal," he said lightly, patting its head. "But there ain't enough room in this tiny house for two."   
  
He softly closed the door behind him, making sure he didn't squash his pet's nose. "Don't worry, you'll be fine out there," Goku called out, but was only met with a rough hurumph. Smirking, he let go of the knob and walked to the dresser. Then, on second thought, he made a detour to the closet, pulling out a blanket for his fuzzy friend. (Just in case he gets cold,) he nodded as he took a look outside the window to view the tiger's current comfort.   
  
But it was already sound asleep in front of the door, snoring away like a steam engine. Goku looked at it curiously, then smiled. "Good idea," he said to it, and turned back around, heading for his bed.   
  
Carefully, he lay the blanket within the bed frame, replacing the missing mattress. He pulled off his T-shirt and next his sneakers and pants, leaving him only in his dragon ball coated boxers. Taking Sushinchu out of his pocket, he lay it to rest on its cushion. Then, he let himself go, falling onto the bed with a soft sigh.   
  
He looked upwards at the ceiling and closed his eyes. A good nap would help sort out his troubled mind and clear it for the day ahead. A day of relaxing training…   
  
(Yes. Sleep on it.)   
  
Then, he fell away to peaceful slumber.   
  
*****   
  
Goku's sleep was not to be uninterrupted. He would have dreams, manifesting themselves in the form of past memories. These memories were of his youth, of a day when innocence, adventure, and the future ruled his life. They were filling his head, stating all their ideas, trying to convince him that their way was the right way, that they held the answers he sought.   
  
They came to him in a rush.   
  
*****   
  
"Hey Grandpa, watcha doin'?!" The perky eleven year old hollered out, slamming the door and sending a shudder through the house and the old man he was talking to.   
  
Son Gohan gasped out, and shoved the hentai magazine underneath a pile of blankets. "Y-yes…my child?" he spoke, trying to sound as Zen-like as possible. But the lad had already seen it, and quickly overturned the sheets, revealing many interests that one his age should never see.   
  
"Goku, don't look!" he called out, trying to cover up the offensive material as best he could, with Goku of course looking anyway.   
  
"Hey, what's that?" he asked, pointing his finger right between a girl's breasts.   
  
"DON'T TOUCH!!!" Gohan slapped his grandson's hand away, quickly turning over the magazine before it had the chance to pervert his mind further, like it had the old man.   
  
But Goku's curiosity had already been piqued. "Grandpa, what was that thing?" he queried, his eyes as wide as if they'd seen some sort of demon in that picture. "Tell me! What was it, huh? Tell me!" He hopped up and down, eager for the lesson to begin.   
  
"W-well…ah…." Gohan stuttered, trying to come up with a plausible excuse. But when he looked into the boy's innocent eyes, he sighed, and decided to tell him the simple truth. "Well…that creature…." He took a moment to phrase his words properly. "…that creature was a girl."   
  
"A ghoul?" Goku asked, now really confused. "But aren't those monsters?"   
  
"Not a 'ghoul,' you dunce!" He snapped, whacking his boy on the head. "A 'girl!' A 'girl!'"   
  
"Ohhhhh! A 'gurl!'" Goku smiled, his face shining with understanding. Then, it went blank again. "What's a 'gurl'?" he asked his grandfather.   
  
"Well…" Once again, Gohan was left with finding the proper words to tell him. But this time, they came to him quite easily. "A girl…is a mystical being, full of life, energy, and beauty…" At the word 'beauty,' his eyes grew hazy, as he imagined himself naked in a steaming hot tub, accompanied only by the magical angel known as 'girl'…  
  
"Like a witch?" Goku lurched backwards, and Gohan facefaulted. "Gee, this 'gurl' thing sounds pretty scary, if you ask me."   
  
"WELL NOBODY'S ASKING YOU!!!" The boy fell to the old man's screaming, landing on his back roughly. "I should've never told you those fairy tales…" he muttered under his breath.   
  
Gohan straightened up again, getting his temper under control again. "Listen carefully, Goku," he said seriously, looking him straight in the eye. "If you remember only one thing I've ever taught you, remember this: If you ever meet a girl, treat her nice." He leaned away. "Do you understand?"   
  
Goku regarded this statement for a moment more, then broke out into an all out smile. "Yeah, I gotcha," he said cheerfully, then took a questioning expression. "'Course, I still don't know what's so great about them."   
  
"You'll see…" Gohan said cryptically as he led Goku by the hand, exiting out the doorway.   
  
*****   
  
"Dosen't that mean 'bloomers?!' Haw!" Goku burst out laughing at the funny name.   
  
"Shut up!! I didn't pick it!!" The underwear girl was less pleased, showing off her teeth as fangs, like she was ready to bite into the little twerp. But he just continued laughing and laughing. "Ha ha ha! 'Bloomers'!!"   
  
"Little twerp…!" Bulma muttered as she got out her capsule case. "I hate little twerps!"   
  
*****   
  
"Goku, you're so stupid!" Bulma yelled out, as Goku took on the huge monster all by himself. The beast was more that four times his size, yet the boy was unafraid. He just waited patiently, in his Jan-Ken form, for the enemy to strike…   
  
*****   
  
"Goku, you're insane!" Bulma couldn't stop her laughter as Goku pulled his antics, dancing around and spinning on his tail like some sort of mythical breakdancer. He looked so happy that she was tempted to join him. If only she had a tail…   
  
*****   
  
"Goku?"   
  
*****   
  
"Goku!"   
  
*****   
  
"Goku…"   
  
*****   
  
WAKE UP.   
  
Goku woke with a start, lurching upright up from his bed, glancing all around him. He flailed his arms at his imaginary attacker, hoping to bring him down by chance. In the end, though, the only thing he managed to knock over was Nyoibo, sending the rod spilling out of the sheath onto the floor.   
  
Rod.   
  
Goku couldn't believe his eyes. Nyoido was whole again, in as perfect of a condition as the day he received it. It showed no signs of ever being broken; it was smooth and beautiful, not even a dent in the red wood.   
  
A small spark appeared in the corner of his eye.   
  
Goku turned around.   
  
Sushinchu…was glowing.   
  
Yes, the Four Star Ball was actually glowing, with none of its brothers in sight. It blazed with a saffron shine, radiating a calm aura that was all its own. A magical sight that had no explanation, except that it was magic.   
  
It didn't last, though. The glow was already started to fade when Goku had begun gazing at it. The aura grew weaker and weaker with each passing moment, and soon, it was just another ornament, sitting still on top a soft, fuzzy cushion.   
  
But it didn't matter.   
  
Because that glow was all Goku needed.   
  
[Tokihamichite…  
Oometsua oometsuaraaa...]  
  
The light that had entered his eyes unloaded a rapid flood of emotion within him, suddenly filling his heart with an intense rush of strength, determination, and love, all these unlocking the solution that he held all along...   
  
He knew.   
  
He knew what to do.   
  
[YUDULIYA-VELE, YUDULIYA-VELE, YUDULIYA-VELE,  
YUDULIYA IYALIYA]   
  
He had been so stupid, running away from his problems and hiding out in a shack at the end of the world. He had been so scared and confused that he forgot the one thing that would always guide him.   
  
Son Goku never quits. Ever.   
  
[A, sokonashino kyofu-hikitsure…]   
  
Goku leapt out of bed, going to the closet and pulling out the gi that was obviously meant for him. He jumped into the pants and slipped on the vest without a second thought.   
  
[A, noberikuru ja-akunatamashii…]   
  
He tied the cloth belt into a bow, slipped his feet into the Kung-fu shoes, and grabbed the hand-guards from the shelve, straightening one, then the other, making sure both were secure with a solid snap.   
  
[Makerarenai ummeinowakareme,   
Yarushikanai yoakenimeiokakete]   
  
With Sushinchu in pouch, Goku walked to the morning breeze, which rolled his spikes backwards into a razor. He stepped over the sabertooth tiger, who murmured tiredly. He smiled. "Take care of the place while I'm gone!" he told it, who looked at him goggle-eyed. He turned towards the dawn horizon.   
  
[Konotede!!]   
  
Then he started walking.   
  
[WOW WOW! Kanarazu!   
Orehaoreokoetekuze,   
WOW WOW! Kioatsumete!   
Kurayamiotobase.]   
  
Son Goku walked away from his Grandpa's home, once again on his journey to the west. With a gaze both solid and firm, he walked with purpose towards the too-far horison, knowing he was going to reach it.   
  
For behind that horizon was the fight of his life, the journey of his youth, and the crazy, blue-haired girl he loved, who he would share it all with. With this driving him, he called out for Kintuon, which appeared from the heavens.   
  
And as he zoomed off, an old man smiled.   
  
  
  
Additional Disclaimer(s): "Spirit Vs. Spirit" belongs to Kageyama Hironobu, and to all other contributors. The quote "If you ever meet a girl, treat her nice" and all the quotes within Section 9 were taken directly from Dragon Ball, Volume #1.   
  
Until next time, Ja ne! ^_^   



	16. Chapter 11, Part 1

  
Dragon Ball: Makafushigi Adventure   
  
By Reid M. Haynes   
  
Disclaimer: Dragon Ball and all characters within are the property of Akira Toriyama, TOEI ANIMATION, and various other companies. I am using them without permission, and I am making no money off of them.   
  
Legend:   
( ) Denotes thoughts.   
  
Tale 11: The Heart's Battleground, Part 1   
  
*****   
  
The devil of daybreak shrouded the heavens in its night cloak, with only a small blaze of blue burning across the horizon. Nimbus hesitantly moved through, blown westward by the cold morning winds. Below, the rolling plains spread into the far distance, where the snowcaps cut forth with an azure gleam of near-aurora status. It was an image of elegance and evil all in one, to be judged at the preference of the viewer.   
  
For some it could be a scene of beauty, and others will see it as frightening. But for the man on the Kinto-cloud, it was found only to be foreboding, the before the morning time where light was on edge, and darkness still reigned. Where any accident might cause you to skip the sunshine and fall to the shadow of an afterlife sleep.   
  
All these morbid thoughts crackled through Goku's head as he rode on a straight line toward the broken-down Capsule House towards his tryst. His eyes were totally devoid of all the good humor they normally held, and his mouth was rigid in a fixed scowl. He was in battle mode, a hyper-focused attitude where every sense was enhanced, where blades of grass were separate and articulate, and where whispers were as loud as bull horns. It was a superhuman shell where all answers were clear and all fear was vanquished, except when it wasn't.   
  
Goku was scared out of his mind. Not by any fear of death; that was silly to him. It was that he had never done anything like this before. For him it was always about "winning the tournament" or "getting the bad guy." Be the strongest, and use your strength to "do the right thing."   
  
But this had nothing do with strength. His muscles wouldn't help him one whit in this struggle, so it made no difference. Logically, it didn't have much to do with "right," either. This was a crazy stunt outdistancing any wild scheme he'd ever attempted, a stunt that was risky, and may just end up doing more harm than good.   
  
Yet he had never felt more right about anything in his life.   
  
He smiled grimly.   
  
That's why he was here.   
  
With his fear watered down a bit, Goku continued his flight over the plains, growing closer to his destination. On this, he lowered the altitude of his flight, preparing to land. He was coasting close enough to the grass that he cut a bare swath through it, sending green walls to either side in imaginary fanfare for his arrival.   
  
He looked ahead through the displaced stems that wafted in front of him. Just beyond the next hill stood a familiar hardwood, with branches modestly stretching out to encompass the plants that thrived beneath it. Within the protective covering leaned a young man, with violet hair that shadowed his eyes. His demeanor was calm and patient, with an expectance that came with confidence in fate.   
  
Goku bent his legs further on Kinto'un, preparing his jump. He waited a bit for the cloud to reach the tree, then leaped off, letting it zoom off in an arc to the sky, free from its master's will. It disappeared into the distance as Goku touched on earth, about one meter in front of the boy that was waiting from him.   
  
Trunks raised his head, a cold gaze on his face. "So, you've arrived," he said in a deadpan voice. "You're going through with it, aren't you."   
  
Goku met his hard look with one of his own, and nodded once in confirmation. Still, Trunks kept up his strange, malice free glare. "You don't have to, you know," he said, not moving an inch from where he stood. "There may be another solution that you haven't thought of yet. You still have time to back out."   
  
"No, I don't," Goku said mechanically. "My path in life has led me here, and I no longer have any room for escape. I've got to hit this head-on."   
  
Goku's granite gaze turned to stone, solid and cold. "This is what Vegeta wants." he explained, folding his arms. "Although there could be a different solution somewhere out there, I owe him this much. For all the training he's provided me with, and for what this means for both of us."   
  
Trunks stared down Goku a moment more. Then, slowly, his shoulders relaxed, and his eyes closed. "That's what I thought you'd say," he sighed, lowering his head.   
  
Goku's own eyes softened at the emotion, though they remained as steadfast as ever. "Trunks, I'm sorry," he told him in a kinder voice. "I know…what a mess this must be you."   
  
But Trunks only shook his head. "You just do what you feel in your heart, Goku," he said, opening his eyes again. "That's the most any of us can do in our lives. You've taught me that, more than anyone else I've known."   
  
Goku regarded this with a brief shake of the head, unfolding his arms. But anything he was about to say was lost as a bright flare of energy lit up the dark field. Both men turned to the source of this light, only to view the image of a man, wreathed in gold, with an intensity that could be felt even from here. He was waiting.   
  
Trunks turned back to Goku, and pointed his thumb to the distant figure. "Your future awaits," he said, and lowered his arm. "Good luck." Then he closed his eyes, and leaned back against the tree once again.   
  
Goku smiled briefly, and turned away from the boy, walking past the tree towards the light. His pace was even and solid, and his fists were clenched hard, fingernails digging into his palms. Taking small breaths of air, the fighter walked through the grass, the blades pressing against his pants, continuing onward to destiny.   
  
To his left, he could see three figures out of the corner of his eyes: Oolong, Yamcha, and Puar. All of them had eyes wide staring mindlessly at Goku, disbelieving the very sight of him. Although they knew he was here, and knew why he was here, they still couldn't really believe the truth before them, or at least not enough to pick their jaws off the ground.   
  
(Guess you guys never thought I had it in me, did you?) Goku thought, an ironic chuckle coming to his lips. Once again, he had managed to see humor in the face of danger. Although he knew exactly what he was getting into, he couldn't help finding their faces a bit funny, probably because he'd be exactly the same way, were he in their shoes. He didn't even know if he believed it himself.   
  
But the time was over for doubts. For ten meters away stood the man of gold. His features were more visible now: sharp eyes, sharp nose, and a scowl like a gilded sword. The fire of destiny burned through his form, scalding the world around him with the change of time. And all this was meant for him.   
  
Goku stared at his opponent, the smile now gone from his face. He pulled his hands up and wrung all cracks from their joints. Very slowly and deliberately, he stretched each of his arm bands, making sure they were secure. Then he stopped, put his hands down to his sides, and tightened them once more.   
  
He had to believe now.   
  
For it was time.   
  
*****   
  
Bulma had had a bad day. For the entire time since Goku left, she had remained in her room, refusing to talk to anybody about what happened between them. She ate only a meager dinner and ended up staying for half that night, thinking about all the things that had changed since her childhood, as well as all that remained the same. All of this introspection had eventually tired her out, prodding her to finally fall on her bed and catch some rest.   
  
When Yamcha had woken her, saying that Goku was going to fight Vegeta, she bolted out of the covers, despite the fast that she was wearing practically nothing. With the astonished man staring on, she threw a nightgown over her head, slipped on some mis-matching shoes, and shot out the door, not even stopping to put on her morning makeup.   
  
"That idiot!" she growled in a shaky voice, moving through the grass in a mad panic. "That…moron!" Bulma increased her pace, breaking out of her jog into a full run. She bolted down the field at such a speed that even Gregory would've been impressed, and before long she was within ten meters of the two combatants, albeit wheezing from the brief sprint.   
  
Had Goku blown a gasket? Flipped his lid? Whatever it was, Bulma had no idea something like this would happen. Sure, she expected some repercussions, especially after their little 'talk.' But going off and fighting Vegeta because of it…   
  
Upon hearing two voices, Bulma shook herself out of her reverie. Goku and Vegeta were talking, in deathly quiet voices that could scare zombies back to the underworld. A bead of sweat fell down her temple, then she perked her ears to listen.   
  
"Kakarrot, you've arrived," Vegeta said, his hands on his arms. "You managed to make it on time for once."   
  
"Yeah, I'm here," Goku said bluntly, in a blood chilling tone. "Just like you asked."   
  
"So, it's true then," The shorter one hissed, and Bulma saw his fists tightened enough to draw blood. "You are trying to steal my mate."   
  
Goku made no move to deny it. Instead he kept up the same stoic stance he'd been in since Bulma arrived on the battlefield. "Vegeta, you know this battle means nothing," he said. "Whatever the results are of this fight, it won't change anything. It'll be just another victory, a sad one."   
  
"I disagree," Vegeta's eyes narrowed in hatred for his adversary. "This battle will mean the end of our rivalry once and for all. It will finally prove who is the strongest Saiyan among us. And as for Bulma…" His lips twisted into an ugly, bloodthirsty grin. "Well, no dead man will be loving her."   
  
Bulma's eyes widened with horror and realization. Goku and Vegeta weren't just sparring. This was a blood match, winner gets all and loser gets death. The white knight was about to confront the dark prince. And it was all over her.   
  
In such a romantic circumstance stance, there was only one thing Bulma could do.   
  
"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING!?" she screamed, at a decibel high enough to shatter platinum. She stomped up to Goku, taking a stance that demanded an answer.   
  
An answer Goku gave. "You know what," he said darkly. Bulma took a step back. He hadn't even looked at her. He just kept staring off at Vegeta, gauging his rival with an iron eye, like he had barely heard the question.   
  
And that infuriated her. "You're…so stupid!" she yelled out at him, hoping to get some sort of reaction. "Do you really think this is going to solve anything? Do you think this will show that you're the better man? Damn it, Goku, you could get killed!" By the last word, Bulma was screaming at the top of her lungs, desperately trying to get his attention. "If you really loved me, you wouldn't do this and make me risk losing y…" She cut off the last word, putting her hand to her mouth, surprised at her own words.   
  
The fighter turned his head, and Bulma leaned back, in case the nut was going to chew her out. That didn't happen. Instead he had a smile on his face, a pleasant little grin full of life and confidence. "Don't worry," he said, winking at her. "I'll be fine."   
  
Then he turned back around, and Bulma could tell he had his battle mask on once again. But now Goku's posture was changing. His knees were bending, and his arms bent up at the elbow. His fingers curled into stubby claws, and his head was poised sideways, looking beyond his hand at the man he would be facing.   
  
Then finally the full weight of what was happening hit her like a mattock.   
  
Goku loved her.   
  
He was fighting for her.   
  
He could end up dying for her.   
  
"Goku…STOP!!!" But he either couldn't or wouldn't hear her, for he sped straightforward towards his rival, who was following suit. Goku and Vegeta were running the ten or so meters that separated them, speeding up with every footstep.   
  
As they got closer and closer, their arms cocked back, ready to slam into the other.   
  
When they reached within touching distance, the fists shot forward.   
  
And a bright flash of light radiated from where they stood.   
  
Bulma could see them no more  
  
*****   
  
The martial artist leaned away from the hook veering towards him, and jolted back with a forward jab. Yet his move bounded against the other's forearm, and he was forced to step back from a high kick to his chin. He attempted a kick of his own, which shot to his opponent's stomach. But the man evaded his strike by pushing up with his one free leg, turning a backwards somersault that quickly gave room to maneuver. A bad situation, for the former had sacrificed a great deal of balance. And the latter had chosen that moment to move in with a lethal side kick.   
  
Doing what he could, he fell backwards with the approaching limb, and caught the ground with one palm. Using his biceps and his momentum, he pressed against the earth for an instant, than released the stored pressure, shooting high up into a midair corkscrew. Inverted, he twirled like a drill bit, creating a wind force strong enough to carry him several arm lengths away from his enemy. Once he was far enough, he broke the technique, flipping his legs behind to land firmly on his feet, back in the same fighting stance he had when the battle begun.   
  
Goku stood still in his new position, waiting for Vegeta to make the next move. His stance was unwavering, yet not rigid, like an ice cube in an oven, ready to melt once the heat was on. And by the offensive mindset of his rival, a burst of fire was to be expected. And by the accelerated twist punch that was heading his way, a burst of fire was to be avoided.   
  
Jumping back from the knuckle, Goku lurched around into a backfist that came two inches from Vegeta's cheekbone. He then had to lower that arm into a shield against a groin kick, and had to move it sideways to slap away a face jab. Quickly swelling backwards, he managed to evade two rapid drops kick, landing just in time to deflect a combination hook, jab, and body blow, with precise movements from his left forearm.   
  
Block, dodge jump, Goku moved away from every shot from Vegeta's ballistic barrage. He led the raging Saiyan on a winding path around the field, staying one short step of a blow to his head, thigh, or other vulnerable soft spot, always keeping him within appropriate distance for viewing the body as a whole.   
  
This was his way. With every attack that Vegeta threw out, Goku gained one more tip on the fighting style his enemy had chosen. His eyes were constantly analyzing the angles and areas the moves originated from, searching constantly for an opening, a pattern, or any other information that could be utilized. Never launching an assault of his own. For the ones that strike first are the ones that will lose.   
  
This philosophy always served him well with the majorities of challenges he had faced over the long years. But this time, he wondered if he should've reconcidered. Vegeta's attacks were getting faster and faster as he increased the strenth poured into them, and he wasn't tiring out either. Goku was forced backwards into a series of simultaneous blocks and dodges, trying his absolute best to keep up with the ongoing rush.   
  
Dodge, block, block, the attack went on and on, and Goku was forced to exert more and more energy into defense. He had lost his concentration on Vegeta's style, and now he was focused solely on the bolting physical artillery.   
  
Block, block, block, block, Vegeta was now grinning deviously, knowing he had the advantage. With every punch he threw, his knuckles got closer and closer to hitting his enemy's body. The moves were getting bolder and more random, forcing Goku to dance around in an almost frantic attempt to keep away from the danger.   
  
With every punch he threw, Vegeta's gaze held its supreme confidence as he tried more and more exotic techniques. Crane punches, finger jabs, tiger slashes, they were all coming centimeters from Goku. He kept up, throwing scissors kicks and uppercuts, forcing Goku to continue weaving his web, which was now so sticky that the spider itself would get caught up in it.   
  
And the nefarious fly was now laughing, throwing a kick, a punch, and laying off just a moment to launch a flying strike straight to the spider's gut.   
  
And then the spider smiled. That was it.   
  
Raising his arm from his last block, Goku flew upwards over Vegeta's body, letting the final kick pass beneath him. He looped in a half revolution, thrusting both palms to land on the descending turf and into a soaring handspring. Airborne and spinning, he turned on his side to land backwards on his feet, and proceeded with a series of reverse handsprings, moving him further and further away from Vegeta, still completing his attack.   
  
Looping over and over, the Saiyan Slinky continued his acrobatics, trying to increase his distance from the other. Hands and feet met dirt over and over in this synchronized cycle, alternating with rhythm that percussionists could only dream of.   
  
But Goku had decided that the song had gone on for long enough. Completing the pattern three more times, he gathered his force with the final meeting of shoe and grass. He bent down into a racers crouch, sliding backwards with strong inertia. Then he kicked off the ground, shooting him as a projectile twenty meters to Vegeta's skull.   
  
Taken by surprise, the Sayian Prince whipped his arm around, just in time to catch the flying fist that would've hit his temple. Goku didn't stop there though. He kept up the attack, moving into a seamless collage of randomness with quick, decisive strokes that shocked his opponent out of his offensive. Like a lightning bolt he struck, moving in a zigzag of high and low punches and kicks, cracking whip-like against Vegeta's arms. He shot backfists and cresent kicks, ridge hands and palm strikes. Then, when he deemed it fit, he launched out with four consecutive spin kicks, each leg jettisoning outward as a blue, electric blur.   
  
But upon the final attack, Vegeta grabbed hold of his leg with a quick lunge. Using Goku's own momentum, he spun the fighter around and around, much like the spinning hammer from Olympic fame.   
  
And as soon as he peaked, he let go, and Goku was airborne by Vegeta's accord. Flying through the air, he struggled to regain control of his body. Finally, he bent his knees back, and slashed out with a lighting fast somersault, redirecting his flight back the ground and allowing him to land on his feet and back in his stance, instead of on his head and flat on the grass.   
  
Goku breathed deep breaths, taking in as much of the nature sweet air as he could. The fight had barely started, and already he was sweating. He felt like he'd been out here for five hours rather than five minutes, and had to keep from washing his head free of the perspiration.   
  
Vegeta, on the other hand, did not look tired one bit. On the contrary, he seemed quiet relaxed, in fact almost too relaxed, as if he had been playing with a kitten rather than a lion. He didn't even fall back into a fighting position; he just stood there, with his hands on his arms and his mouth in a smirk. Not worried in the least.   
  
"You're…fast," Goku managed, eyeing his opponent warily. "Much faster…than I expected."   
  
At this Vegeta smiled, letting his teeth shine against the small light that existed in the hellish battlefield. "My anger fuels me," he explained, narrowing his eyes arrogantly. "The desire to defeat you keeps me energized with unlimited power to crush you with. A power that won't stop, until you lie lifeless on this field, dead by my hand."   
  
The shorter man snaked back into proper position, ready to start anew. "You should really take me more seriously," he chuckled, curling back to dash forward again. "I'll even let you use that idiot stick of yours to even things up, though it certainly won't save you."   
  
Goku ignored his Nyoibo, keeping all his attention on his opponent. His hands stood cocked at the ready, to act as shields and swords all in one. He was still, complacent, still waiting for him to make his move  
  
Then Vegeta launched forward, and combat began once again.   
  
*****   
  
On the sidelines, the spectators watched the flurry of action with an astonished gaze. They of course saw none of the complex maneuvers that the two fighters, performed, just a series of fading, translucent blurs. But what they could see were the immense oddities of the situation.   
  
Goku and Vegeta. Fighting over a girl.   
  
Oolong wagged his head in amazement. He'd always thought that Goku never had an interest in women, a fact he attributed to growing up not knowing what they were. Certainly he never seemed caught up in romance and the like.   
  
Yet there he was. Putting his life on the line for the same woman he'd argued with all those years ago. Fighting with all the passion of some fairytale knight against a vicious dragon.   
  
He sighed. That's life for you.   
  
A startled breath awoke the pig from his thoughts, causing him to glance up. It was Yamcha, the only member of their group that could somewhat follow the events taking place before their eyes. Right now, his eyebrows rising like baked bread, and his mouth hung loosely downwards.   
  
"Yamcha. Hey, Yamcha," Oolong whispered up to his friend, tugging on his pants leg. "What's going on out there?"   
  
"I'm not sure," the observer said, keeping his eyes trained on the battlefield. "But something's not quite right."   
  
"I'll say," Oolong grunted. "Just when you think you know a guy…"   
  
"Not that, you dunce!" Yamcha snapped, giving Oolong the evil eye. "It's Goku's moves. He's not fighting the way he should be."   
  
"Huh?" he gulped, his nervousness kicking in. "What do you mean? What's wrong with him?"   
  
"He's not going Super Saiyan," Yamcha answered, anxiously gritting his teeth. "And Vegeta's been Super Saiyan for the entire fight. He's holding back too much power."   
  
"What?" Oolong asked, raising an eyebrow. "But why would he do that? He'll lose if he keeps that up!"   
  
"I know why." The pig and the man looked downwards, and were surprised to find the cat staring at the fighters, with subtle realization on his face.   
  
"Goku knows he can beat Vegeta," Puar said, with wide eyes. "but he dosen't want to kill him."   
  
"So, if he dosen't want to kill him," Oolong put his hand to his chin. "then he won't. But that means…" He suddenly gasped.   
  
"Right." Yamcha nodded. "Goku dosen't want a death on the battlefield. But Vegeta does. Goku's."   
  
Oolong looked at the two in shock, than he heard a voice behind him. He turned around, and was surprised to find Bulma on her knees, transfixed to the strife in front of her. Her eyes seemed glazed over and her body was frozen in horror. She didn't even see Oolong looking at her; she saw only the two men fighting.   
  
"Goku…Vegeta…" she whispered, half deliriously. "Why…did it have to come to this…?"   
  
*****   
  
Barely avoiding the deadly concussion blasts, Goku vaulted twenty feet into the air, swooping head over heels to land about twice that distance from the gunner. Soon, he was forced to move again, launching into another aerial tumble that again missed the explosions by a hairbreadth. He kept moving, bounding like a grasshopper across the plain, desperately trying to avoid the rounds that his opponent shot towards him.   
  
The battle had now turned into a projectile war, and Vegeta was letting loose with a volley of ki bullets. His arms pumped like pulleys, jerking back and forth to release bolt after bolt of yellow energy. It was a never-ending salvo of rage, and while Goku was no slouch when it came to firing a few shots, he was clearly the other's inferior when it came to large-scale blasting.   
  
Goku took his next leap to fire a potshot from his hand, hoping to distract Vegeta for a quick second. He landed back on the ground, and used his arms to deflect the incoming shots away from him. They flew far and wide into the distance, skimming over mountains and crashing into trees with no regard. It was nuclear mayhem, and it was toiling on his series.   
  
Then Goku saw an idea. One of Vegeta's blasts was coming at just the right point, so he bent his arm at the elbow in wait. And when the ball got close, he slammed his fist into it, sending it straight back at its shooter, who was forced to break off the attack for an instant to defend against his own attack.   
  
With that momentary break in the barrage, Goku rolled into his own firestorm, sending a hail of white-hot gumballs at Vegeta's form. He used his arms as cannons, jerking them back and forth with the recoil. Firing onward, he kept up the tempest as long as he could, a heap of smoke and plasma starting to rise up from the repeated impacts. The gases kept expanding and expanding, forming into a hazy, blue cloud.   
  
And when it was over, Vegeta stood tall among the fumes and ozone released, smiling with presumptuous satisfaction. He had blocked every one of the shots, and still, he didn't look too worn out about it.   
  
Vegeta moved back into his battle position, ready to start another attack. Which he soon did, with great eagerness.   
  
The battle dragged on and on in the same fashion. Goku tried every trick he knew of to best his rival, even going as far to employ old techniques like Zan-zo-ken and Kaio-ken. But no matter what he tried, Vegeta would brush it off, and fire a counter attack twice that power and more.   
  
Goku landed back from Vegeta's latest attack, taking huge gasps of air to his tired lungs. His arms were worn and battered from too many collisions, and his legs ached with the excessive jumping he was forced to do. He was losing, badly. And soon, he wouldn't be able to take much more.   
  
Then his mind clicked back on, and he remembered he still had one more left in his repitoire. With his entire body in pain, he bent back, and stood his ground. Then he started making the motions, large sweeps of his arms to end up together, with hands cupped into a small vase.   
  
(Grandpa. Wish me luck.)  
  
And with that thought in his head, he began his Hissatsu Waza.   
  
"Ka…"   
  
*****   
  
Trunks craned his head to Vegeta and Goku, silent in his observation. He saw that Goku was already in the first stage of his final attack, and that this event would end the fight, one way or another. His arm rose, and his fingers stroked the sword's grasp, ready to interfere, should it be necessary.   
  
He stood firm, ready to draw his weapon.   
  
And when he saw Goku began the second stage, he slowly started to pull the blade from its sheath.   
  
(No.)   
  
"No," He forced his hand away from the hilt, closing it into a fist. "It's not time yet."   
  
Trunks sighed, and lowered his arm again. Although it looked quite grim for his father and Goku, the spark of danger wasn't there yet. He would just have to wait, and let things take their rightful path.   
  
He folded his arms, leaned against the tree, and resumed his vigil over the two.   
  
*****   
  
"Me…"   
  
*****   
  
Oolong, Yamcha, and Puar watched the growing fireworks, each of them with their own, different reactions. Yamcha viewed it with a sort of amazement and awe, while Puar shivered in the arms, holding onto the vest in near hysteria.   
  
And, Oolong, he just covered his ears.   
  
"Oh mannnnn…   
  
*****   
  
"Ha…"   
  
*****   
  
The blue light was growing in Bulma's eyes, and her heart turned loops in her ribs. She held onto her chest and took rapid breath of airs, struggling to comprehend all of the thoughts in her mind.   
  
Her first meeting with Goku, the clothes he wore now that was so like that time. Vegeta's conquest on Earth, how his rivalry with Goku began. Goku's childhood, and how her feelings for him grew as he grew. Vegeta's oh-so-subtle interest in her, and his rage that exploded whenever "Kakarott" was mentioned.   
  
Two different people, two different feelings.   
  
This was to settle it.   
  
*****   
  
"Me…"   
  
*****   
  
The ball of energy was nearly complete now, Streams of light slid through his fingers, swirling around the field and shinning on the grass blades. The clouds collected the beams and distributed it with each other, and the night sky shone with the brilliance of full noon.   
  
Goku knew the risks of using such an attack. He knew of the incredible energies necessary to keep it up, and how using just one blast could drain him to total exhaustion. But despite it all, something deep within told him that this was the path that he needed to take. All of his thoughts and feelings were fed into his palms, energizing his power of heart.   
  
The new destiny he had chosen had come to a head.   
  
(Bulma, if this dosen't work out…) He crushed the ball in his hands. (Then…I'm sorry.)   
  
Goku grit his teeth.   
  
Then, he released it.   
  
*****   
  
"HAAAA!!!!!"   
  
  
  
Author's Notes: Part 2 will be coming momentarily.   
  
Until next time, Ja ne! ^_^   



	17. Chapter 11, Part 2

  
Dragon Ball: Makafushigi Adventure   
  
By Reid M. Haynes   
  
Disclaimer: Dragon Ball and all characters within are the property of Akira Toriyama, TOEI ANIMATION, and various other companies. I am using them without permission, and I am making no money off of them.   
  
Legend:   
( ) Denotes thoughts.   
  
Tale 11: The Heart's Battleground, Part 2   
  
*****   
  
"HAAAA!!!!!"   
  
The incredible rush of crystal fire poured from Goku's outstretched grasp, burning out like an active volcano. Shooting through the atmosphere, it moved through the space separating it from the target, soaring over the grassy plains in a matter of seconds. In no time at all, the godlike fury had crossed the abyss towards the man, who only stared at it in surprise.   
  
Vegeta's shock didn't last, for before the beam had connected, he had started his counter. He raised his hands, channeled his energy into them…   
  
"FINAL FLASH!!!" …and just as the laser was within his fingertips, he let loose with his signature move, running its saffron wave outwards. It rammed straight against the Turtle-taught attack, forcing it away from Vegeta with an earth-quaking force. It pushed and shoved with all the power the prince could muster, meeting it blast for blast in a final struggle for supremacy.   
  
A struggle that Vegeta would win.   
  
For by applying just a little bit more energy, he was able to push the blue-white bolt backward. He found the enemy's force to be strong and formidable, well designed for combat. But it was no equal for the newly found rage that he had welled up within.   
  
"RAGH!!!" With a sudden shock of power, Vegeta increased his beam's intensity ten fold, disintegrating Goku's attack into harmless vapor. It tore through it's bulk, eating through the flame like it starved for blood. And indeed it would get blood, for it was soon within his opponent's area.   
  
Then it broke through, sending a cataclysmic explosion into the world. Rippling with cosmic rings, the orb of destruction completely masked the target inside its volume.   
  
Soon it started to clear, and Vegeta squinted his eyes to look beyond the fading detonation. And then he smiled, and his eyes lit up with a manic glee. Then he chuckled, folded his arms, and finally launched into full laughter.   
  
Goku was on his knees, struggling to stay up, and his gi was soiled and torn…   
  
*****   
  
Goku did his best to get to his feet, pushing with all of his remaining strength. He shoved against the ground, straining his arms into steel. In the end, though, it wasn't enough, because the fallen hero soon fell onto his face, beaten and battered and the loser of the fight.   
  
He shivered in pain, and craned his head up at the victor. Vegeta was walking slowly to where he lie, snickering with victory. With clenched fists he moved, swaggering like a drunk sailor, ready to end everything.   
  
(So, this is my destiny…) Goku closed his eyes. (I…was supposed to lose.) It was the only thing that made sense. One of them would fall on this battle. And by the smirk on his enemy's face, it was to be him.   
  
"You should never have walked out of your house, Kakarrot," Vegeta said as he neared the thrashed body. "Now, you'll taste the might of a Saiyan prince."   
  
Goku looked wearily at the man, who stood tall over him. He blinked wearily, his vision starting to fade. Then he let out a small smile.   
  
(Goodbye, Bulma,) he said sadly, his eyes watering over with tears. "I hope Vegeta…takes good care of you…)   
  
Vegeta raised his hand, and formed it into a blade. "Our rivalry has come to a close…" He bend his arm back… "…NOW!!!" Then he swung, straight for the forehead.   
  
Goku closed his eyes.   
  
"Vegeta!" And a voice broke through his haze, keeping him from falling into unconsciousness. He peeked through one eye, and found Bulma, standing about three meters from hum. She was standing firm, arms spread and her mouth set, with eyes glittering with fierce, protective fury.   
  
Vegeta was not impressed by this display of emotion. "Do not interfere, woman!" he demanded, looking over his shoulder at Bulma. "This battle is mine, and I intend to finish it!"   
  
"The hell you will!" she screamed back, curling her fists. "Goku is one of my oldest friends! If you touch him, I'll never forgive you!"   
  
Vegeta looked startled at this outburst, but quickly formed his face into a scowl again. "You have no say in this matter!" he snarled, flaring up with anger. "This is a battle between fellow Saiyan. Why do you even bother to oppose?!"   
  
"Because I…" Bulma started, then suddenly stopped, her voice catching in her throat. "Because…I…"   
  
"Because you what?" Vegeta bit out, interrupting her. "Love him?"   
  
The woman was stunned by this accusation. Her eyes were widening, and her lips quivered in fear. Her face was hit with a light blush, and her hands were wringing loosely at her sides.   
  
But then Bulma grit her teeth, clenched her fists, and finally spoke up.   
  
"Y-yes!" she said, trying her best to keep her voice from wavering." Yes I do!" Two tears rolled down her cheeks, poured from her hardened irises.   
  
"No!" Vegeta suddenly screamed out, gesticulating wildly with his arms. "He's nothing! A weak little third class! You can't!" He swished his arm back into position, ready to axe Goku in half. "I'll show you just how pathetic he truly is!"   
  
As Vegeta's arm began his deadly descent, Bulma's face burst into shock. She stared on as the prince prepared to end the life of the one she now knew she loved.   
  
Then she screamed out in despair.   
  
"Gokuuu!"   
  
*****   
  
Vegeta's brain was boiling with an insane fire, consuming him from the inside. His eyes were glowing with frenzy; his teeth ground together, and his entire body shook like mad.   
  
(This is impossible!) he reasoned desperately. (No one could possibility choose that idiot over me!)   
  
With new resolve, he let his arm move back onto its fated path.   
  
(I am Vegeta, prince of all Saiyan! I am the proven strongest in the universe!)   
  
His chop slashed through the air.   
  
(I am the one who holds the key to destiny! I am Kakarrot's superior!!!"   
  
It kept moving.   
  
(I…)   
  
And moving…   
  
(I…)   
  
And…it stopped.   
  
(I…lost.)   
  
*****   
  
Goku opened his eyes. Vegeta's hand was inches away from his nose, glowing with a ki strong enough to crack open his skull. The aura was fading, though, slowly melting into the endless ether. And the hand…was shaking.   
  
Vegeta's face was wrought with disbelief, seeming startled at the very hand he had brought to a halt. His eyes had cracked out of their permanent glare, and now were stretched out in a face that Goku had seldom seen. The prince of Saiyans was at a lost for words, and the martial artist had no idea what he was going to do.   
  
But Vegeta knew he was doing. He moved his hand away from Goku, letting it fall away loosely to the side. He turned away from him, looking like he was struggling with something. Then Goku heard him sigh, an ashamed, defeated breath of air, and all of the conflict drained out of his voice.   
  
"You win….Goku." With those three words, he charged up his ki and flew away to the sky, making a gold streak that zapped out into the distance, disguising the fighter until he had diappeared forever into the clouds.   
  
And then Bulma was rushing towards him, running as fast as she could towards his side. She was saying something, something very loud, repeating it over and over again.   
  
But Goku could only chuckle at the irony of the situation. "He…he called me 'Goku,' he breathed in, looking up at her lazily. "Well how about that…?"   
  
Then his vision blacked out, and crumbled to the ground, amidst the horrified cries of Bulma.   
  
*****   
  
Yamcha walked down the crumbling hallways of the Capsule House toward the room on the far end. He carefully stepped over yesterday's wreckage, making his way slowly and steadily through. In his hand was a moist towelette, and in his eyes was the calm sense of peace that always came with the completion of a great trial.   
  
It was one hour after the ordeal on the plains. Oolong had fainted dead away, while Puar had burst out crying. Trunks was calmly waiting outside; for what, he had no idea. And as for Goku, he was still unconscious, so Yamcha had to play nursemaid for him, walking aback and forth from the TV to check up on him every fifteen minutes.   
  
But he was too mentally exhasted to complain. Yamcha let out a large breath and started using the towel on his own forehead. The end of Goku was nigh on that battlefield, and yet once again he cheated death, by the most extraordinary of circumstances. It was like some fifty-five cent romance novel that you could pick up from a gas station, except that it was all reality.   
  
In all his journeys with both Bulma and Goku, Yamcha had never expected some crazy thing like this to happen. But in the end, he really shouldn't have been that surprised. Goku was a monument to the unpredictability of life, and chaos seemed to follow him wherever he went.   
  
When Yamcha actually looked it over, it was obvious that Bulma had had some subtle interest in Goku, even at the time when he was dating her. But there was always something else, some obstacle that was in the way. Like him.   
  
t the time Goku had married Chichi, Yamcha thought that it was all over. Indeed, things seemed to quiet down, as Goku had a child now, and was quite the family man. He should have known, though, that it wouldn't last. The whole mess with the Saiyans exploded, Vegeta had started living here, and Bulma had developed an interest in him.   
  
And now this.   
  
Yamcha arrived at Goku's quarters, and found Bulma waiting right outside the door. Large rings were under her eye, and she looked like she hadn't slept in days.   
  
"How is he?" she asked quietly, not looking at him.   
  
"Better," he answered, crumpling the cloth in his hand. "He should be waking up in about ten, twenty tops."   
  
"That's good," Bulma lowered her head again, and the two settled back into uncomfortable silence. Both of them seemed like they had something to say, but were waiting for the other to go first.   
  
For a while, the only sound that could be heard was the tick-tick-tick of the clock in the right-hand room. Then, Bulma spoke up again. "Do you.…" she began, looking at the floor. "…do you know why Goku didn't fight at full power?"   
  
Yamcha started to lean back. "I'm not entirely sure," he said, propping himself against the wall. "But I think it was because he somehow knew that he couldn't settle things that way."   
  
"You mean I was supposed to interfere in the fight?" Bulma asked him.   
  
"Maybe, maybe not," he said. "All I know is that the paths we take swirl and intersect with each passing day. The future is never concrete enough that it can't change and cultivate into a whole new destiny," He smirked. "Hanging out with you guys has taught me that much."   
  
Bulma seemed taken aback by this poetic outburst, but quickly reverted back to her original, motionless state. Yamcha took this as an end to their conversation and opened up the doorway to Goku's room.   
  
But inside, things had changed. The bed was empty, and the sheets were on the floor. The bandages that Yamcha had wrapped around his patient were scattered all over, and the wet towel lay useless on the dresser.   
  
Goku was nowhere in sight.   
  
"He…he's gone!" Yamcha exclaimed, searching all over the room. "But…it was just thirteen minutes since I last…" He suddenly dashed out of the room. "Hey Bulma, Goku's flown the coop. He…"   
  
But no one answered him, for she had left too. "What the…" he stuttered, looking at the spot where Bulma had been. "When did she…aw, hell." Yamcha gave up in exasperation, throwing the moist towel behind him. He peeked beyond the corner, where he could see the front door swinging shut.   
  
Then a small smile melted on his face.   
  
*****   
  
Bulma let the door swing behind her as she trudged through the field after Goku. Her hair bristled with the movement, stinging her eyes, and the slippers flopped on her feet with each stride. Once again, she was running like mad, chasing after Goku and trying to figure out what the hell he was doing now.   
  
But then again, this was what she pretty much did all the time. Bulma couldn't believe how much her life was connected with Goku's. Ever since she discovered him in the mountains, a chain reaction had been started, creating new stages of her life with every fallen domino. Sometimes she wondered if it would ever end, or if she even wanted it to.   
  
Then Bulma saw a figure up ahead, and she skid to a halt. She stared out at it. There he was, standing among the willows. His hair was tousled with the early morning breeze, and his ragged gi flayed around his shoulders. His back was to her, and he appeared to be staring out at the mountains.   
  
Bulma hesitated for a moment, wondering if she should even approach. Goku seemed so deep and contemplative, and she was afraid to disturb him. She took a few steps back…   
  
"I'm going on a trip." …and then his voice came out at her, jolting her backwards even further. She gaped at him. How had he known she was here? How…but then she shrugged it off. Goku was always pulling weird crap like that, so it only took her a moment to calm down.   
  
When she had done so, the meaning of Goku's words emerged into mind. She stalled for a quick second, then she came up with a response. "Where are you going to?" Bulma asked, keeping her voice as neutral as she could.   
  
"Here, there, anywhere," he said, still keeping his back to her. "I have no place to go, and I have everywhere to go."   
  
Bulma saw Goku's head droop down, so that she could see his bare neck. "I've finally figured out what Grandpa wanted me to do with my life," he said. "He never wanted me to stay at the pangoda alone. He wanted me to get out, learn new things, and meet wonderful friends. That Dragon Ball he left me…" he paused for a second, as if trying to convince himself of the truth he knew. "…that was for me and me alone, to lead me out of the mountains and into the world. He knew that someone would come searching for it; it was his way of guiding me and keeping his spirit with me."   
  
For once, Bulma kept silent, letting Goku continue his speech. All that he said made perfect sense, and she was almost surprised she didn't come to that conclusion earlier. But Goku had risen his head now, so she was kept from mulling over this any further. He was slowly turning to face her, with a somewhat nervous look on his face.   
  
He met her eyes, and said something that she would never have dreamed possible.   
  
"Come with me."   
  
"W-what?!" Bulma stood up rigid, frozen in Goku's stare. "What did you say?" she asked again, not daring to believe what he she had heard.   
  
"I want you to come with me," Goku said, a small blush appearing on his face. "The way I figure it, Grandpa hoped for me to find someone who would travel with me. I did," He put his hand to the back of his head in embarrassment. "It's kinda taken me a while to realize it…"   
  
"Half your life," she corrected him, in a mindless daze.   
  
"Yeah," he laughed a bit, a half-smile on his face. "Anyway, it's been a long time, but with this trip to clear my mind, I've finally figured out what I want."   
  
"W…what's that?" she stammered, holding her breath back.   
  
"You," he told her.   
  
"H-h-huh?" Bulma gasped. "M-me?"   
  
"Yeah," He turned back away from her. "You see, I want to travel around the world. But I want someone to share it all with, to laugh with and get angry with." He took a breath. "I know I've made a mess of things, especially with Chichi. But I can't help believing that this is what I should do."   
  
"Bulma, let me give you your wings back," He turned to her, his eyes wide and shining. "I want to see you free and energetic, like you've been on this trip. Let's be angels again, and travel the skies looking for adventure, like we used to." Then he closed his eyes. "Okay?" he amended, looking back into her eyes.   
  
Bulma stared in amazement, all words sucked out of her mouth. "G-Goku…" she started, then stopped to take another breath. "I…I don't know…" she said, trying to put all her thoughts into words. "I…"   
  
Goku stared back to the ground, a slightly disappointed look on his face. Then he turned back to the mountains, away from her. "I understand," he said quietly, looking to the icy peaks. Then he made a sharp whistle, and a small, yellowish-green cloud shot from the heavens to the ground, waiting for his next command.   
  
Goku made a quick hop onto Kinto'un, and turned back to Bulma. "If you want to come along, I'll be waiting on top of the mountain," he said. "And if you don't…well…" For a quick second, Bulma thought she saw a flash of sadness on his face. "I'm sure you can still make up with Vegeta."   
  
He raised his hand, and gave her a small salute. "See ya," he told her, and rushed off towards the mountains beyond.   
  
Bulma watched the man and his cloud leave, not moving an inch. Then her racing heart caught up with her, and she put her hand to her mouth in amazement, scarcely believing what had just transpired before her gaze.   
  
She thought she had left her questing days behind her forever, and didn't think that she could ever go back. For long nights, she had sat up, thinking about the past and what could've been, if things had been a little different. But now, she was getting that chance again, another shot at going on the adventuresome life she had always dreamed about, and she would have one more shot at showing Goku just how much he meant to her.   
  
But was she truly ready for such a jaunt? Did she have the courage to throw everything away, her home at Capsule Corp, and her laboratory there, to jump into an air-car and chase her dreams again? Was this what she really wanted? .   
  
Bulma's knees gave, and she slumped onto the grass, her slippers popping off her feet. She put her hands to her face, and tried to put her scrambled heart back together.   
  
"Kami, what should I do?"   



	18. Epilogue 1

  
Dragon Ball: Makafushigi Adventure   
  
By Reid M. Haynes   
  
Disclaimer: Dragon Ball and all characters within are the property of Akira Toriyama, TOEI ANIMATION, and various other companies. I am using them without permission, and I am making no money off of them.   
  
Legend:   
( ) Denotes thoughts.   
{ } Denotes handwriting.   
  
Epilogue 1: Our New Paths  
  
*****   
  
In the eastern side of the world, among the mountains and trees, was a lonely little hut, sitting there all by itself. It was a modest dwelling: no frills, and little decoration. Just a well, a small garage, and just enough space to support a family of three.   
  
Though it did that no more.   
  
If Son Goku were to travel to that house, he would've sensed a disconcerting aura radiating from the residence. Though the grass was cut, and the flowers looked managed, there was something wrong with the place. The birds sang and the crickets chirped, but not a sound came from this illusion of home. All the lights were out, and the entire house seemed dead and forgotten, like a tombstone with no flowers.   
  
If Son Goku were to open the door, a deathlike chill would bluster past him, halting his progress with a startled twitch. The familiar hum of fans and air-conditioning was absent; already a few flies had started to make their home here. And though everywhere he'd look would be a table, a chair, or some other commodity, all of the homey touches: baubles, pictures, and mementos, were gone.   
  
If Son Goku were to walk into the kitchen, he'd feel the same coldness he felt earlier intensify one more step. The table was set, but there was no food to eat. Bowls were in the cupboard, but not in the sink. All these little things would shout out at him, stuff you would never have thought twice about, unless they were gone.   
  
And if Son Goku were to look at the desk, he would find one small note, the only object left on it. It was written in neat, unhurried cursive, nothing fancy, but the fact that it was there screamed out loud enough, for it was the only sign of life in the entire house.   
  
This was waiting, should Son Goku ever return:   
  
{To Goku:   
  
If you are reading this, you will have noticed that we no longer live here. Or at least you'll know there's no food in the fridge for you. Kidding. I know you're not that dense, but I still would've liked to leave at least a sandwich for you, if I remembered. But since I don't know when you'll come back, this was probably for the best. Nothing's worse than rotten food, like that moldy old baloney demonstrated.   
  
First off, I would just like to say I don't hate you. I actually agree with what you did, and I'm proud of you for having the heart to be honest with me. Even before the trip, I could sense the gap widening between us, and I fear if this didn't happen, we would've met an end much more tragic than this. Though I love you and always will, it was time for us, both of us, to move on.   
  
Gohan and I have moved to Satan City. You know, where Orange Star middle school is. It makes it a lot more convenient to take Gohan to school and, although he could just as easily fly from here, it makes me feel more like a mother to drive him and chat about the days events. The sweet boy's taking our separation extremely well, after all, so I owe him that much.   
  
Don't worry about him, he's fine. I know he was crushed knowing that his mom and dad weren't together anymore, but he's determined to be strong and hold no malice toward either of his parents. Comes from having a pure heart, like his father. Actually, he's made a whole load of new friends, like Ireeza, Shapner, and that cute Videl girl. (I think he likes her!)   
  
I think we're all on a new horizon now, and we only have a brighter future to look forward to. May the best of luck come to yours.   
  
Love, always,   
  
Chichi}   
  
*****   
  
On the other side of the world, a large cliff overlooked the endless sea. It stood tall over the waters, high enough to escape the brunt of the violent waves, but not so high that the crashing couldn't be heard from the top. For the broken man that sat there could hear them just fine, and that was good. It made for a nice distraction from his own, tortured thoughts.   
  
Vegeta sat on the rocky outlook, looking out at the slow moving clouds. Sad eyes followed the meeting between water and sky, scanning over it as if he was looking for something. Except for some simple, black briefs, he was completely naked, his bruised muscles exposed to the sea breeze. And his hands rested in his lap, grasping onto a blue, spandex uniform.   
  
His Sayian uniform.   
  
What had happened? He was supposed to be the strongest in the universe. And yet that third class had managed to defeat him. He was utterly humiliated, and had lost all of his pride. All of it.   
  
(But maybe,) he thought. (Power isn't the answer to everything)   
  
Goku hasn't beaten him because he was the strongest in body. He had beaten him with the strength in his heart. By taking the ultimate risk, he had come out on top with all the spoils.   
  
And Vegeta, who had sneered at everyone in his life, had lost Bulma. Forever.   
  
He sighed. Justice had been served, after all.   
  
Then with a light swing of his arm, he tossed the Saiyan armor over the edge, not even bothering to watch as it stretched and bent over the jagged rock below. It was time for him to find some new clothes, and a new meaning for his life.   
  
Before he lost anything else.   
  
*****   
  
And in one of the many forests that covered the earth, a young man walked through the tree trunks, with every step full of meaning. His blue jacket was firmly wrapped onto his shoulder, and his sword was locked into place. Wiry arms moved back and forth, and violet bangs parted to reveal narrow eyes, shining and pure.   
  
Trunks moved evenly in the woods, touring the nature passively. He didn't hurry; he didn't slack. He just made every step he took count. Businesslike, just how he handled all challenges in his path.   
  
He could still remember the conversation he had with his mother, just before he left her to think for herself. He had slowly approached her, calmly enough so he wouldn't disturb her. Making his steps loud on purpose, he entered within a short distance of her, and soon she looked up at him, saying his name quietly.   
  
"You're going to go, aren't you?" Trunks said, keeping his face neutral.   
  
"W-what…?" Bulma stepped back a bit. "N-no," she denied halfheartedly. "Don't be ridiculous. Why would I…"   
  
But he smiled gently. "It's okay, mother," he told her, moved to look her in the eye. "I know how you must feel about him."   
  
Her eyes widened, completely surprised. "But what about you?" she exclaimed. "If I don't stay with Vegeta, you won't even be born!"   
  
"Don't worry," he said, and then he stepped forward and put a hand on her shoulder. "In about a couple of minutes, I bet that won't even bother you at all"  
  
Bulma was obviously confused about what he said, and looked like she was about to ask him to clarify it.   
  
But Trunks just moved in close, kissed his mother on the cheek, and said: "Follow your dreams." And he was gone, just like that.   
  
Trunks knew what would happen. In one minute, she would slowly start to forget what he said. In two, she would start to wonder who she was talking to.   
  
And about three minutes later, Bulma would forget that Mirai Trunks ever existed.   
  
He continued his walk gingerly, idly watching the birds overhead. They flew on strange and winding paths, yet always they knew where they were going. Their path was random, but their goal was clear. Nectar was within reach, if you did reach for it.   
  
Trunks smiled ironically. The chronochords connecting him with this timeline were wearing out. Since his birth was no longer insured here, all the friends he had made would lose their memories of him. Sure, they would remember 'someone' aiding them in their struggle against Gero's creations, but their image of Vegeta's son was gone. He would be just some guy that popped out of space, with a shiny sword and the antidote for Goku.   
  
Except to one man.   
  
He walked a bit faster. His father would hold on to his son's memory, a bit longer anyway. His mind was still burdened with his supposed failure, and that would keep him locked into a future that would never exist for him.   
  
For Vegeta's heart was shattered now, he could feel it in his bones.   
  
And it was that heart he had to save.   
  
"Father, I know you think you're alone now," Trunks gritted his teath. "But I'm still here for you. As long as you suffer, I'll be your guardian angel. The son you never had is still your son, and here's coming to help."   
  
He walked a bit faster.   
  
  
  
Author's Notes: Nope, this isn't the end yet! We still have one more section to go. Stay tuned for Epilogue 2, the concluding chapter of "Makafushigi Adventure."   
  
Until next time, Ja ne! ^_^   



	19. Epilogue 2

  
Dragon Ball: Makafushigi Adventure   
  
By Reid M. Haynes   
  
Disclaimer: Dragon Ball and all characters within are the property of Akira Toriyama, TOEI ANIMATION, and various other companies. I am using them without permission, and I am making no money off of them.   
  
Legend:   
( ) Denotes thoughts.   
[ ] Denotes song lyrics.   
  
Epilogue 2: The Dawn of Our Dreams   
  
*****   
  
Atop the great mountaintop waited the eastern martial artist. He waded his shoes in the thick snow, letting its soft chill run through his feet and up his legs. Snowflakes stuck to his hair and clothes, and his muscles forced back the frost with a slow shiver. He was waiting, maybe for the first time in his life, for someone, and trying to keep his hopes alive.   
  
Goku sat on a small rock, looking anxiously for an air-car, or a hoverbike, or even another car to run him over with. He kept looking out to the countryside, using his enhanced vision to scour it thoroughly. For several unblinking minutes he stared on, searching beyond every rock and tree.   
  
The time passed onward, yet Goku still kept up the search. Despite his vanishing faith, he just kept staring, and staring, never letting it go.   
  
But when he saw the sun rising over the ocean, and felt its rays sting his eyes, he started to slowly accept the unhappy truth that had been trying to make itself aware to him, all this time.   
  
(She's not coming.)   
  
Goku sighed, and hung his head. As if in symbolism, a sharp wind brushed past him, loosening his tears and brushing them along with it. It bit against his skin, yet he did not care. It was metaphor to his pain, and payment for the gamble he'd lost.   
  
He knew deep inside that Bulma was never really cut out for this life. She was too grounded in the world she lived in before he ever entered it. The short trips she took with him were just vacations and days off, like summer romances that never made it past September. It wasn't the lifestyle that it was for him.   
  
Still, somewhere in his heart, he'd been…really hoping.   
  
Goku moved from his seat, and brushed the snow from his body. It was time for him to go on the road again. Maybe he had no one to share it with, but he had his freedom, and that would have to be enough.   
  
He took a breath, and prepared to call Kinto'un.   
  
"Hey there."   
  
But the voice he heard behind him knocked that breath right out. Gradually, his head turned to look behind him. His eyes opened up to take in the view of his visitor.   
  
They opened a bit wider.   
  
A young blue haired woman stood before Goku, wearing jeans, a red jacket, and baseball cap that read: "Bulma." Her posture was firm, her hands were on her hips, and she was smiling bright enough to melt the snow that floated around them.   
  
Bulma reached into her pocket, and pulled out a small, pink object. "Wouldn't you know it?" she said, presenting the article to him. "Forgot my hairbrush."   
  
Goku looked at her, then cocked his eyebrow in amusement. "You know," he started, folding his arms. "It'd really make things a lot easier if you'd just forget that stuff."   
  
"Oh shut up, you dope!" she snapped, gnashing her teeth. "If I'm going to go on this silly trip, I want to at least look good while doing it!"   
  
Goku chuckled lightly, and Bulma soon joined him, grinning happily. Then her smile got ten times as wide, her eyes lit up with pure joy…   
  
"GOKUUU!!!"…and then she was running, with arms wide open, straight into Goku's, which welcomed her with unabashed joy. He caught her with his hands and crushed her to his chest, squeezing her body firmly but lovingly, and she returned the hug with as much intensity as if she was a Super Saiyan herself.   
  
Goku and Bulma pulled away from each other to look into each other's eyes. Both their faces were beaming with love and exultation. An identical feeling they held, despite having such completely different origins.   
  
Though none of that mattered any more. Their paths had linked for the last time. Now, they were one.   
  
The two stared at each other.   
  
Then, they started to lean in.   
  
"Well, ain't this a sweet scene," a rough voice called from behind, forcing them from their kiss to look at the one who interrupted.   
  
"Just my luck," Bulma growled in irritation. "Every time I get a little romance in my life, something interrupts." She hissed angrily, but regained her cool when she discovered who it was. "Huh, you?"   
  
"Hey, Yamcha, what're you doin' here?" Goku asked him. "I thought you were still back at the house,"   
  
"Seems to me I arrived in just the nick of time," Yamcha smirked sarcastically, folding his arms. "You were really gonna blast off without us, weren't you."   
  
"Huh?" Goku eyes widened. "What are you talking about?"   
  
"Have you've forgotten already?" another voice questioned, and Oolong appeared from behind his legs. The pig had a very disgruntled look on his face, and way shaking his finger disapprovingly. "We're still on a Dragon Ball hunt, Goku," he pointed out sharply. "You're stuck with us!"   
  
"Yeah!" From beyond a tall rock, Puar floated up and down, with his trademark smile on his face. "So what say we get going, again?"   
  
Goku and Bulma glanced at each other warily, trying to pick out the other's feelings on this. But soon, they both turned back to the group, and grinned. "Right!" they agreed, nodding their heads approvingly, and the rest of the group cheered.   
  
*****   
  
The air car slowly hovered above the ground, kicking up a cloud of snowdust right back to the mountain. The motor purred eagerly, ready to roar through the skies and to the ends of the earth unbound. It hissed and whined, complaining about being kept waiting. Soon, it could take no more.   
  
Goku sat in the passenger seat, almost hopping with anticipation. He smiled, looking to the distant landmarks. He wasn't on his Kinto'un, but that was okay, since he didn't need it to keep him company anymore. He had his friends, his love, and his grandfather's spirit.   
  
He rubbed over the ball in his pocket. Then smiled.   
  
(Yup, he's still here with me.)   
  
"Alright, guys!" Bulma said, gripping hard onto the lever. "Next ball's 300 kilometers away."   
  
"Okay, let's go!" And the air-car tore to the lands ahead.   
  
[Oide, Fantasy,   
Suki sa, Mystery,   
Kimi no, wakasa kakusanaide...!   
  
Fushigi, shita kute,   
Bouken, shita kute,   
Dare mo, minna uzu-uzu shite-ru!   
  
Otona no, furi shite, akiramecha…   
Kiseki no, nazo na do, tokenai yo…   
Motto Uirudo ni, motto takumashike,   
Ikite goran!   
  
Romantic Ageru yo!   
Romantic Ageru yo!   
Honto no yuuki misete kuretara   
  
Romantic Ageru yo!   
Romantic Agero yo!   
Tokimeku mune ni,   
Kirakira hikatte,   
Yume o ageru yo!!!]   
  
  
  
Author's Notes: Well, that's the end of my story. I thank all of you who sent in your reviews to me. Your praise has really made my day, and your criticism has taught me to be a better writer. Even the flames I have gotten helped out a load, as I now believe I have a tougher skin to stand up for my work.   
  
One more thing. I neglected to include a disclaimer from Tale 8. I did this because, after the heartbreaking scene with Goku and Chichi, I thought it would be pretty callous of me to go off and say: "Cookie Crisp is made by General Mills."   
  
Hope to see you all again real soon!   
  
Until next fanfic, ja ne! ^_^   
  



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